Nightmare on Fleet Street
by Marzi
Summary: Man eater gets a new definition in London when zombies suddenly appear in Mrs. Lovett's shop.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Every one who was waiting for my super-duper-top-secret side project..? Weeeell.. This is it. Don't hate me... I just thought it would be hilarious. Honestly, zombies? Don't runaway please! -grabs- There's a plot.. (eventually..) Yes, 'Nightmare on Fleet Street' makes you think of Freddy Kruger but I liked it better than 'Pie Shop of Horrors' which made me think of 'Little Shop of Horrors'; though as a musical that might have been more appropriate..

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1

The blade slid over the man's throat, spraying it's one observer with a stream of crimson. Sweeney smirked as the man in the barber's chair began to jerk, struggling against the embrace of death. When his spastic twitches died, the barber pressed upon the chair's pedal with a satisfactory smirk on his face. The chair titled back and the trapdoor swung open, but the corpse remained oddly stubborn.

Frowning, Sweeney gave the man's feet a nudge towards the abyss. Instead of starting its slide downwards, the body began to twitch and jerk again. Shocked, Sweeney gripped his friend tightly and made to slash at the man's throat again. The body slid towards the floor as he hacked into the man's neck, all the while the corpse stared at him, attempting to sit up.

Not meant to stay open for long, the trap door stuck on part of the body, while the chair straightened itself, flipped the body over and sapping its spine in an irregular fashion.

Sweeney watched in horrid fascination as the corpse attempted to dislodge itself. Coming to his senses, he tapped the pedal with his foot again, sending the broken, somehow still moving, body down to the bake house floor.

A faint scream echoed up from the dark chute as the trapdoor closed once more.

"Mrs. Lovett!" He snarled, annoyed at his own foolishness. Of course she would be down there when he sent a freak of nature down. Ignoring his bloodied appearance the barber ran for his shop door and skipped down the stairs.

The pie-shop costumers watched in surprise as he sped past them into the other shop. Running into the parlor, he stood gasping for breath.

Mrs. Lovett was brandishing a rolling pin, beating at a slit-throat customer, backing towards the fire where Toby stood. Several more men were stumbling into the room, necks painted red. They were coming from the bake house.

About to dash forward, the barber stopped himself when he noticed what Toby was doing. The boy held a partially full bottle of gin and was stuffing a piece of cloth into the bottle's thin neck. Hurriedly holding the rag's end into the fireplace, he waited until it caught fire before tossing it at the nearest corpse.

Mrs. Lovett stumbled back from the burning man, whose clothes had caught fire with the alcohol. She was panting, clutching her bloodied rolling pin with a shaky hand.

"Mr. T!" She gasped, finally noticing him. "I don' know wot happen'd! They jus'-"

A scream from outside drew the trio's attention away from the burning body and other confused corpses in the door. Dashing outside, the three of them saw the cause of the new commotion.

"Me 'usband!" A woman was shrieking, kneeling over a man on the ground. "Somethins poisoned 'im! These awful pies 'ave poisoned 'im!"

The entire crowd stared in wide-eyed shock as the man suddenly grabbed his wife, and bit into her neck.

"Toby," Sweeney said as calmly as he could, grip tightening on his razor. "We need more gin."


	2. Chapter 2

2

Panic seized the area, with pie customers trying to run away, others simply staring in shock, or others falling the ground, clutching their stomachs.

"Up into my shop Mrs. Lovett!" Sweeney roared.

"Wot?' She shrieked, beating her rolling pin against a man who was feebly attempting to grasp her skirts.

"We need a place to barricade ourselves, get into the bloody shop woman!" He turned to the boy at his side. "Either stay with Mrs. Lovett or come with me to get the gin."

Toby was just starting to nod his head when Mr. Todd began pushing his way through the crowd and back into the shop. Those customers who weren't becoming mindless were being quickly devoured by those who were, and any who were running from the shop began to drop like flies as the strange sickness over took them. Slashing at any who dared to come near him, Sweeney reached the kitchen relatively unscathed and quickly opened the cupboards. "Gin." He growled to himself. "Where the bloody hell is the gin?"

"O'er 'ere sir!" Toby called, pointing towards a cabinet as he crawled up onto the counter. He lashed out with his feet at a man who was attempting to eat his shoe. "Mum keeps it high up, so I can't reach it!"

Sweeney shoved his way over to where Toby had indicated and wrenched the cupboard open. Grabbing all the bottles he could hold (how could so much fit in one place?) he turned back to where Toby was bravely punching at a drooling man's face. "C'mon!" He snarled, struggling for the door. "Up to my shop!"

Hacking and slashing at all that was before him, the barber managed a slow pace towards the door. The cuts his razor inflicted only served to slow the monsters. Though the blood that soon slicked the floor became more useful than the cuts, causing them to fall to the floor because of clumsy feet.

"Toby!" He snarled, looking back at where the boy was still stuck on the counter.

"Mr. Todd!"

Pulling the cap off of one of the gin bottle's, Sweeney snatched a lit pipe hanging loosely from a corpse's mouth, then ripped a piece of cloth from his shirt with his teeth. Hurriedly stuffing the cloth into the bottle, and kicking back all creatures that tried to touch him, he lit the shirt scrap with the pipe then tossed the bottle into the crowd.

The fire distracted them, allowing Toby to jump from the counter and dash towards the door. Sweeney was one step behind him.

"Mr. T! A bottle!" The boy cried, seeing a line of limping and drooling, glassy eyed men on the stairs towards the barber shop.

"I don't want to waste anymore! Grab a chair from the tables." He stabbed his razor into the base of one man's neck, trying hard not to drop the gin bottles.

Doing as he was bid, Toby snatched a toppled chair and then dashed back to the staircase. "Keep away from me mum!" He screamed, bashing at all within arms reach.

"Get up the stairs boy!" Sweeney shouted, being pushed away from them by a massive horde or Londoners.

Not needing to be bid again, Toby knocked down all that were in his way and simply leapt over their still moving bodies. Panting at the stair's top, Toby turned his back towards the door, ready to hold back the creatures that started to stand once more. "Mrs. Lovett!" He cried, hoping she would open the door. Toby heard a soft chime, and then a pair of hands pulled him inside.

Stumbling, he dropped his chair and watched Mrs. Lovett slam the door shut once more and lock it. She spun around towards him, looking frazzled and wide-eyed. "Where's Mr. T?"

* * *

A/N If it means anything, no, I'm not going for believability. Though this 'fic does make for one kick ass Mr. T. On a different note I originally intended each character to have their own unique weapon. Y'know, Sweeney has his razors, Mrs. Lovett had the rolling pin, then Toby with the gin. But I felt I would be crossing a line if I gave them an unlimited amount of gin, so I gave the boy a chair instead.


	3. Chapter 3

3

"I-I don' know. 'E jus' said go fer the stairs- I did as he asked mum, I don't know." Tears filled the boys eyes.

"Oh hush love," Mrs. Lovett took a swift step towards Toby and pulled him into a hug. "You did nothin' bad love. I'm glad your safe, doin' what Mr. T said." She kissed the top of his head, hoping to calm him down.

"They've got 'im!" The boy sobbed, clutching his mum's apron in a fit of despair. "I know they've got 'im!"

"We don't know that love, hush. He's probably fine." Worry laced her voice, and unbidden tears watered her eyes. She continued to hold him and stroke his hair, even as a low moaning reached their ears through the door, and distant screams echoed from down the street.

Toby sniffed, trying to force away his tears. "Mum?" He asked, voice quivering slightly.

"What is it dear?" Her voice was nearly a whisper as she leaned back, looking him in the eye.

"Why were there men in the bake house, wot wif their throats slit?"

She smiled at him sadly. "No ain't the time love."

"Bu-"

A muted bang sounded from outside, and the pair rushed towards the barber shop door. Peering through its dusty windows, they caught sight of a small fire in the crowd of people.

"Mr. T musta done tha' mum!" Toby gasped, for once in his life glad to know the man was in some way alive.

Mrs. Lovett smiled in return, though worry was still in her eyes. Her eyes darted around, but she was unable to spot her barber.

There!

Her heart skipped a beat when she finally spotted him, crawling onto a table. He was drenched with blood, and one arm held several gin bottles close to his chest. The other arm sported his friend from his hand, somehow still gleaming silver under its crimson layer. Even from the distance, Mrs. Lovett could see the defiant snarl on his face, which meant he was far from accepting defeat.

"Mr. T…" She murmured under her breath.

* * *

A/N I feel the need to bring up now there will be no consistency in chapter length, or amount of actual plot occurring. Even though the actual 'plot' hasn't really come into play yet..


	4. Chapter 4

A/N I wont be home until late tomorrow, so I decided to give you an extra update today, 'cause there wont be one tomorrow. So, enjoy the extra tidbit- Things just seem to be getting worse for our dear trio right now, aren't they? -evil cackle-

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4

Higher ground. That was what he needed, and the table managed to provide it. The once-men seemed to lack the motor capabilities of simply stepping up after him, so instead they stretched their arms and attempted to grab his ankles. Gasping for breath, he gave himself a moments respite, stomping on the hands and kicking at the faces of those who got too close.

Sweeney Todd had died once before, and had no intention of doing it again.

Though the distance to the stairs from his perch was short, the mass of people between him and the stairs seemed incredibly large. And admittedly, working through the lot was tiring work. Fire seemed to frighten and hurt them more the gashes, but he didn't want to waste his precious gin resource too soon. Apparently decapitation worked well too, as he had come across a customer with a slit throat and accidentally removed the man's head. The body had stopped moving, though the man's eyes had still roved around aimlessly in his skull.

But getting close enough to cut off their head would be difficult. Not to mention the cutting off part, as very few of those below him had deep slits across their throats.

Kicking another man's teeth in, Sweeney lost his balance and tumbled down.

* * *

"'E needs 'elp mum!" Toby reached for his chair, but Mrs. Lovett stopped him.

"Then I'll be the one goin' after 'im."

"Bu-"

"No arguin'! An if somein' bad 'appens to the both of us, ya stay 'ere. Is tha' clear Toby?"

Toby held back his retorts, and instead nodded his head.

"Good lad. Not lock the door behind me." Mrs. Lovett grabbed her rolling pin and reached for the door. She hesitated, turning back to look at Toby. He gave her a hopeful look, as if asking her to stay, but she simply smiled, and opened the door.


	5. Chapter 5

5

Sweeney landed on his back, and managed to keep hold of the gin, though he lost all of his air. The drooling, glassy eyed horde descended on him, groping and intending to sink their teeth into him. He kicked and struggled, lashing out with his razor.

Stars danced before his eyes as he wheezed, in desperate need of air. What sounded like yelling and nasty cracking sounds suddenly started up in the distance, but he ignored them in his attempt to stand.

Nellie was, in no words strong, but no one could ever call her weak. With a hand gripping her rolling pin, she swung deftly at the men's heads, more often then not sending them topping over the stair's banister. She was pleased with the result of the sturdy wood against the monster's skulls, glad she had never coped out when it came to her kitchen accessories.

Blows to the head seemed to effectively stun them, so that even when she didn't knock them down she managed to get past them.

"Mr. T!" She shouted, reaching the bottom of the stairs. "Mr. T!"

A group of monsters had swarmed at the edge of the table where she had seen him last, causing her to fear the worst.

"Mr. Todd!" Nellie screeched, increasing her speed and amount of blows to all before her.

Suddenly a creature was pushed back, knocking several others away as well. Pulling himself up and holding out his razor in a hand, the bloodied bruised and snarling Sweeney Todd looked every inch a demon barber; and very much alive.

Nellie let out a shriek of joyous and mildly demented laughter, staring at the man with admiration as her weapon collided with another creature's skull. His eyes flickered towards the source of the sound, finally noticing her.

Not even bothering with his razor, Sweeney pushed his way through the crowd on brute strength alone until he reached her. "Back to the shop Mrs. Lovett! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing out here?"

"But-"

"Move!" He snarled, pushing her towards the stairs with his body. Back pressed against her body he began to walk backwards, trusting her to lead them towards the stairs.

Sweeney's razor sang through the air before cutting through a man's flesh, and was soon joined with the sick cracks of Nellie's rolling pin on a skull.

* * *

A/N With all that is actually written up of this story, so far, I can proudly say this is one of the most romantic moments...and I doubt if that fact will be changing any time soon.


	6. Chapter 6

6

Toby had locked the door as Mrs. Lovett had asked, but all kinds of fear still coursed through him. Was Mr. Todd really alright? Was his mum even going to survive the rescue operation? If they really tried, would the monsters be able to break down the old door and reach him? His hands gripped the battered chair he had used early tightly. Should he ignore what she told him and simply go out and fight too? Cold sweat coated his body, and he licked his lips nervously. Toby had heard the sound of breaking bones when Mrs. Lovett had exited the shop, but as the baker had made it farther away from the door, the sound had dwindled. Was she really alright?

A strange shriek that could have been laughter reached his ears. Who was that? What was that?

Shakily releasing his chair, Toby nearly ran into the door as he desperately peered through the glass. Mr. Todd and his mum were together! He closed his eyes and let out a relieved breath, when another thought occurred to him.

Why had she dodged around his question? How was the end of their world not time to answer it? If this was of course, the end as it seemed to him. Another thought caused his belly to twist with disgust. What was it in Mrs. Lovett's pies that had caused the men to turn so? Was it some freak coincidence that they had gotten sick when eating her pies, or was there a reason?

"Boy!" A voice roared, pulling him from his thoughts. "Open the door!"

Jerking back to reality, Toby fumbled with the lock before yanking the door open.

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A/N This is the shortest chapter I've written, and I'm pretty sure none will ever be this short again, but I wanted to show that Toby's been thinking, so you can sorta thing of it as a 'back at the ranch' interlude scene. Though it's, 'up in his head'...


	7. Chapter 7

7

To call Sweeney a bloody mess would have been an understatement. He claimed most of the blood wasn't his, but after limping towards his vanity to put the gin down and nearly collapsing on the floor, Nellie insisted to check on him.

Setting him down in the barber chair and pulling off the bloody and unsalvageable shirt, she shook her head with disgust. The blood had soaked through the shirt's material, staining most of his pale skin red, and where it wasn't red it was purple with bruises. Her eyes immediately found several cuts along his arms, and several on his back.

"We shall 'ave to use the gin ta clean ya up dear." She sighed, reaching for a bottle.

"No!" He snapped. "We aren't wasting any of it on me. Just hand me the bucket of water and a rag. I'll be fine."

Having to clean up his customer's bloody messes more often than not, Sweeney always kept a bucket or two of water lying about his shop in case of emergency clean up. He pointed towards where one was sitting, expecting it retrieved.

"Mr. T," Nellie sighed. "These might get infected."

"Then I should go back outside." He growled.

"No." She snapped, Nellie let out a breath to try and calm herself, rubbing at her head agitatedly. "Mr. T jus' use the gin on the cuts. Jus' a little." She begged.

"No." Sweeney snapped again, taking the bucket and cloth form Toby who had fetched them. "_This_," he dunked the rag into the bucket, "will be fine."

Nellie rubbed her head again and grumbled something under her breath about men.

"Mum, are you alright?" Toby asked.

"Only a headache luv. Those things out there didn't manage to hurt me."

"Which is a relief," Sweeney growled. "Why did you come after me? It was a foolish idea that could have gotten you killed." Wringing out the soaked rag, he gritted his teeth as he began to clean off his arms.

"Ya looked like ya needed 'elp is all." tears started to fill her eyes.

"I got out of the mess fine."

All happiness Toby had previously felt on Mr. Todd's return was soon diminishing. His mum had just risked her life for him, and he was yelling at her?

"Jus'- jus' doin' wot I could Mr. T."

"You could stay here." He stood up suddenly, dropping his rag. There was nothing like the normal maddened rage in his eyes that normally accompanied his outbursts. Yet it took Mrs. Lovett several tears to fully understand what that meant.

He was worried about her. She hiccupped, and a tiny smile came onto her face as she bowed her head, taking his onslaught of words without a flinch. Toby frowned, trying to understand her happiness.

And then the door to the barber shop rattled as hungry hands pressed upon it.

* * *

A/N Aw.. Mr. T cares. -laugh-


	8. Chapter 8

8

Immediately snapping his attention away from Mrs. Lovett, Sweeney's hand went for a razor at his side. "Brace the door with something!" Was the first thing out of his mouth.

Hurriedly scrubbing at her tears, Mrs. Lovett looked around to find something for just that. With its mechanics, the barber chair was immovable, and the little vanity that held the gin wouldn't do any good as a block, as it was too light. Thinking as quickly as she could, Nellie dashed for the door and braced it with her back.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sweeney snapped at her.

"Jus' helpin' Mr. T." She smiled weakly at him.

For once his scowl failed him, and all he was able to do was stare at her. Having almost panicked at the sound of the banging, Toby began to calm down, seeing that the adults appeared to have things under control.

"Mum, ye can't stay up 'gaisnt th' door ferever." The boy mumbled finally.

Breaking away from the eye contact, Sweeney slowly bent down to pick up the discarded rag. "They'll probably wander off eventually. Or at least move on when they can't get in." He stared at the rag rather than the room's other occupants. "We'll just 'ave to take turns until then."

"Keep fixin' yerself up Mr. T." Nellie said softly. "I'll keep 'em back fer now." Her smile faltered as she felt each fist pound on the door through its frail wood. Though they could move on, it was more likely they broke in before that occurred. What would they have then?

A stuffy silence descended on the room, only broken by the occasional thud on the door, or the soft splash of water as Sweeney cleaned off the blood coating his skin. Toby had sat down by the chair he used as a weapon, casting continued glances between it, and the door.

There was a loud crack, and all attention immediately went back to the door.

"Mrs. Lovett!" Sweeney once again abandoned his attempt at self-cleaning and headed for the door, taking his razor from a holster and preparing for a fight.

Nellie gave a squeak of surprise as the glass panel by her head shattered, and a bruised and bloodied hand came through. Sweeney stopped in his tracks, feeling the old emotion of fear in his belly, fear for someone else. "Nel-" he choked down the name, determined not to say it. "Get away from the door." He growled instead.

She didn't seem to hear him, and instead stared wide eyed at the grasping limb.

"Mum.." Toby whimpered.

A loud scream echoed out of the barber shop and onto the street as the remaining windows were shattered and several hands grabbed the back of Nellie's dress.

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A/N M'fraid zombie fighin' is still postponed.. at least, until tomorrow. Muahaha..


	9. Chapter 9

9

"Get yer 'ands off me ye grimy bastards!" Nellie frantically swung her rolling pin against all arms she could reach, but fear and panic began to overwhelm her as the hands gripping the back of her dress started to pull.

Sweeney dashed forward, stabbing wildly with his razors, splattering himself with blood once more. "Move, move!" He snapped, hoping that somehow the baker would be able to break free of the monsters' grip.

Splinters joined the glass and blood as the thin frames between the window panes were broken. Toby was frozen at the sight, knowing his chair would be no good in such a situation. He suddenly rushed forward though, as the baker screamed again when her feet were lifted off the ground.

Focusing his attention on attacking all he could reach for the window, Sweeney nearly forced himself to ignore Mrs. Lovett's screeches. They couldn't risk opening the door as an attempt to push them back, if it was at all possible with so many swarmed behind it. He couldn't risk touching her, even as an attempt to bring her back. All that would show was a weakness, a desire for her to stay, the possibility of caring for her well being and maybe even a bit of compassion.

Sweeney's internal dilemma was nothing like the desperate grip Toby had on his mum's arm, hoping to be able to pull her back.

There were a great deal more cracking noises and glass shattering as Nellie was finally pulled through the window like a great rag doll, rolling pin still clutched in her hand.

"Mr. T!" She screeched, kicking snarling and whacking at the hands that passed her above the crowd. "Mr. T!"

The barber and the boy stood in numb shock as the horde slowly drifted away from the door, carrying the baker with them.

"No." Sweeney growled, wrenching open the feeble and damaged door. "No!" He attempted to run down the stairs after her, but a surprisingly strong hand held onto the back of his coat.

"Sir, stop!" Toby pleaded. "Mr. T, look!" The boy begged.

Though most of the creatures had descended down the stairs with their prize, a great many were still wondering around the pie shop's courtyard, and they turned their hungry eyes onto the barber shop as the moving group passed by.

"We need to get back into the shop sir!"

Sweeney ignored Toby, eyes fixed on the hissing spitting form of the red-haired woman. "Nellie!" He howled.

* * *

A/N I'm a shameless shipper xD. But other than that, I'm proud to say this entire chapter can be summarized as 'Mrs. Lovett gets pulled through a window'.


	10. Chapter 10

10

She had fought and attempted all she could to gain her freedom, but the large amount of people holding onto her made it impossible to free herself from all of them at once. Nellie had been hoping her travel with the horde would have been short lived, and that Mr. Todd would have come dashing down the stairs after her.

_He doesn't care, he wouldn't risk it._ A voice had whispered to her. She didn't want to believe it, and she didn't want to hear it. In fact, she could have sworn she heard him shouting her name as she was hauled off. But that could have been a fancy her mind came up with on its own. After all, here she was, clutching a bloodied rolling pin to her chest and just waiting to be carried to an unknown destination.

Nellie tried not to focus on her mysterious situation, not liking one bit that the odd creatures were acting strange on their own accord. It added another mystery, which her weary brain couldn't solve. All she hoped for was that Mr. Todd was keeping Toby safe.

* * *

"You little wretch!" Sweeney had his hand wrapped around Toby's neck, lifting the child up off the ground. "Do you think you've managed to help us in anyway by not letting me go after her?"

Toby had been relieved when the man had finally decided to reenter his shop and slam the useless door shut. Now he was once again forced to realize what a dangerous man Mr. Todd was, and continue wondering why he had ever helped him, or hoped he lived.

He wheezed out a few incomprehensible words to Sweeney's smoldering gaze. With a twist of his lips the barber frowned, dropping Toby and watching him fall to the floor.

"Get up." He snapped, turning away from him.

Massaging his no-doubt bruised throat, the boy shot him an annoyed glare before complying. "Wot now?" He grumbled.

Sweeney grimaced at the boy's tone, his fingers curling around the chair that had been used earlier. A great part of him desired to throw it at the child for having stopped him, and another part told him to try and view reason. The child wasn't Mrs. Lovett, in fact, the only reason he was putting up with him was because certain death awaited him on the other side of the door. That was, it should, unless they decided to drag him away too. A great part of Sweeney doubted such a feat was going to ever happen again, but he wouldn't be past trying if Toby was the test subject.

Instead of tossing it at Toby's head, Sweeney smashed the chair into the ground, breaking off its legs. "We need to put some bars back in the door if we're to stay here."

"But wot about'-"

Sweeney turned towards Toby irritably, still clutching a greater part of the chair. The child swallowed, then nodded his head.

"Alrigh' sir."

* * *

A/N It seems Toby and Mr. T still got quite a few problems.. heh. Poor Mrs. Lovett.. wherever is she going...?


	11. Chapter 11

11

"Mr. Todd, sir?"

Sweeney grunted in response.

"Wot do you.. Wot do you think 'appened to mum?"

The genuine fear and worry in the child's voice made the barber look up. Why was he asking, did you expect some optimistic answer?

_No doubt he does, Mrs. Lovett wouldn't hesitate to tell him all is well._

Of course, Mrs. Lovett wasn't there, and that was exactly their problem. Whatever fate befell her, Sweeney didn't think it was a particularly kind one.

"I don't know wots happened to her. Even if she somehow is alive, we're going to need to think of ourselves for a moment."

Toby seemed more surprised by the fact he received a response over what was said.

* * *

Mrs. Lovett had kept her gaze up at the oddly blue and cloud free sky. A sort-of half sleep state came upon her because of the exhaustion and fright she felt, but her eyes remained open even when her brain seemed to shut off. If she had taken the time to try and notice and map her surroundings, she would have been less surprised when the horde beneath her stopped moving.

She also, most likely, wouldn't have screamed bloody murder when she was dropped to the ground.

Clutching the rolling pin like a safety blanket, Mrs. Lovett eyed the drooling creatures nervously. They were simply standing about, staring off at nothing. She slowly turned, worried and intrigued by where they had brought her.

Her aching, trembling body went stiff with shock.

"This is what they brought?" A voice droned. The man sighed. "Come bring her down to see."

Mrs. Lovett's wide eyes showed all the emotion a dropped jaw could not.

* * *

"We can't stay 'ere, can we?"

"No." Sweeney snapped, he was quickly becoming irritated with Toby's constant questions.

"You said we 'ave to think of ourselves before we go fer mum Mr. T. 'Ow is pacin' helpin'?"

"It is much more helpful then your constant talk." He spat angrily, coming to a sudden stop next to the boy.

Toby squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for another remark, or attempt on his life. None came. "Mr. T…?" He opened his eyes slowly.

"The chute." The barber muttered.

"Wot-"

"Shut-up boy." Sweeney marched over to his chair, and stomped on its pedal. He grinned at the dark hole the trapdoor opened into.

Toby stared at the titled chair and dark tunnel.

"You didn't think I conducted business without help, did you?" He sneered at Toby's horrified look. It seemed Mrs. Lovett was quite the charmer, and the boy had remained ignorant of her role in the whole affair. The fact the boy had finally shut up made Sweeney smile, but a strange bitter taste entered his mouth when he thought about how Toby would now see Mrs. Lovett.

* * *

A/N Sweeney feeling.. regret? Mrs. Lovett reaching.. someplace? Whatever is going to happen next...? xD


	12. Chapter 12

12

"Th'.. the men in the bake 'ouse." Toby stuttered.

"Yes." Sweeney snapped, watching the trapdoor and counting in his head.

Seven seconds, and the innocent looking floorboards swung back into place.

"She.. In th' bake 'ouse… burns them.. by the pies?" The child was grasping at straws, trying to piece everything together, and though the speculations were wild in his head, he knew that he was omitting something.

"She doesn't burn the bodies." The barber, resuming his pacing. _Seven seconds… _"Not the entire thing anyway," his lip curled into what could have been a smile when he thought back on the baker's idea. Just as genius as the day she proposed it to him, he had been happy enough then to pull her into a strange waltz about the shop, a feat he was probably willing to perform again. Even if it was for that one, simple, idea.

"Th' pies…?"

"Yes, yes." Sweeney snapped. His pace became quicker, and a hand ran through his disheveled hair, making it look even more crazed. "Woefully ironic how the best pies in London are made from the scum of the earth."

"I don't believe you!" Toby screeched, and then pounced on Sweeney's back.

* * *

Mrs. Lovett didn't know how she moved, or why she wasn't running, screaming, struggling to get away. She simply stepped onto the premises of the garish home, feeling quite out of place with her bloodied clothes and rolling pin.

The judge gave the tool in her hand a sneer. "A baker?" He didn't seem too surprised by the blood.

"Famous." She choked out.

Turpin raised an eyebrow.

"Fleet Street." Mrs. Lovett managed to say. The surreal situation, the calmness in which the Judge addressed her, well, it wasn't calming at all.

"Ah yes, I've heard about that shop." A reminiscent sneer appeared on the man's face.

A sudden rage boiled inside the baker when she realized what memories the judge was visiting. "O' course tha's wot ya think ya sick-"

The surprise on the judge's faces and Mrs. Lovett's nasty comment were suddenly halted when the Beadle came into the room.

"Joanna as requested lord." The portly man's eyes danced over Mrs. Lovett stiff and blood stained form. That look suddenly reminded her of her disheveled appearance, and of likely tears in her dress from her haul through the barber shop window.

_Oh, Mr. T._ A despairing voice wailed in her head.

"…this?" The end of the question snapped Mrs. Lovett back to reality.

Johanna stood in the room, looking sickly pale at the sight of Mrs. Lovett. The judge had apparently been addressing her, as the young woman tore her eyes away to look at him. "Yes sir."

"A baker? Nothing more.. suitable, for you new servants to retrieve?" The graying man sighed.

"N-not now sir." The girl had started to tremble at the word 'servants'.

Pity twisted Mrs. Lovett's gut when her mind finally pieced bits of the conversation together. Judge Turpin had apparently made the disgusting horde as a strange gift for his ward. How that happened or why such a thought would possess any man was beyond her grasp.

"Shall I take her up to my room sir?" The young blue eyes darted back to Mrs. Lovett, mirroring her pity.

* * *

The air _wooshed_ out of Toby's lungs when he was slammed to the floor. Stars danced in his vision but the assault wasn't over until his head was snapped to the side by a vicious smack. Toby could taste blood in his mouth and feel tears in his eyes, but he didn't dare make a sound when cool metal was pressed against his neck.

"Don't try that again." A cold voice warned him.

* * *

A/N Don't fuck with Mr. T! -cough- Sorry.. Anywho, I'm a little surprised more people weren't screaming 'the judge!' after the last chapter, but here's your proof :D This chapter also finally brings up some questions, which will be answered. I hate stories with plot holes, I do, so I'm trying my bes tot fill mine. Y'know.. heh.. just to addle your brains a bit, I'll share something. When I first started this story, Mrs. Lovett was going to be in control of the zombies, but I could draw out the judge more this way, and I wanted to do that.


	13. Chapter 13

13

"I..um." Johanna's hands fidget nervously, grasping at her skirts before releasing them. "I suppose…?" She stared at Mrs. Lovett, as if hoping the woman would somehow provide the answer.

Mrs. Lovett, still moving with uneasy stiffness, ignored the girl's attempt. The room was small, but well lit and sparely furnished, giving it a larger appearance than it's walls really offered.

"Would you like to.. change?" The blonde asked, her hands wringing together.

"Oh." The baker stared down at her clothes, as if just noticing. About to say yes, Mrs. Lovett took in Johanna's appearance before amending her answer. "It's alright dear, I'm quite used to it." Though the answer would no doubt ring oddly in the girl's ears, Mrs. Lovett thought it would be better than attempting to squeeze into the much smaller woman's garments.

* * *

"There weren't many in the house." Sweeney was talking to himself, but Toby kept his eyes glued to the barber, fearful the moment his mind strayed he would be asked a question. Not that his presence had really been acknowledged after the razor had been removed from his throat.

The not-so distant memory caused shivers to travel up the boy's spine, reinforcing the fact Mr. Todd did not care he had threatened the life of a child. Though the act was not unprompted, Toby couldn't help but wonder how the man felt nothing after his actions. Toby's lip was swollen, and his body trembled whenever Sweeney flicked his razor open and closed.

"They wont stay in an empty place, I think.." The barber continued, feet carrying him back and forth by his door. He would have preferred to pace by the window as he normally did, but with the threat the weak door possessed, it was better to stay closer to the action. "They've probably cleared out."

Toby swallowed, and slowly gathered the courage to ask a question. "Wots this ta do wif the chute, sir?" Despite the accusations and revolting truths Toby felt behind Mr. Todd's words, he couldn't think of his mum as an accomplice to murder. _Mr. Todd took advantage of her love and made her do it, _a voice whispered in his mind. For surely, if she had been doing it all of her own free will that would undo his base of reality.

Sweeney didn't look at the child, though he answered his question. "We're going to climb through down to the bake house." How far of a drop was it, even if one could lower themselves with the utmost care? How far was the ceiling from the cold, brick floor? "They'll be outside of this door still. We could sneak out to the street." _If they still aren't in the pie shop._

Seven seconds wasn't a lot of time to lower oneself into a grimy tunnel and find footing; nor was 'if' a great basis for a plan.

* * *

Despite Mrs. Lovett's assurances that the tattered dress was fine, Johanna fetched a new one for her. When the woman confessed the real reason she wouldn't change was because she doubted it would fit her, the girl had blushed, and then sent for a dress. The Beadle had given them quite an annoyed look at the request, but hadn't complained.

"Where's it guna come from, I wonder?" The baker muttered, more to the rolling pin at her chest than the room's other occupant.

"Here." Johanna stepped out from behind a screen, forcing a smile onto her face, she hadn't heard the comment. "The bath is ready for you."

Mrs. Lovett wasn't all that sure she wanted to take her clothes off in the Judge's house. When all she did was stare at her, Johanna sighed and stepped forward to take Mrs. Lovett's hand. The older woman flinched at the contact, causing the girl to pull back in shock.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "Are-?"

"It's nothing." The baker mumbled, taking a small step away from the screen and the tub behind it.

"Some of that blood _is_ yours, isn't it?"

What could have been an ironic smile twisted onto her face. "Bein' pulled through a window might leave a mark."

* * *

A/N Meep.. filler chapter. Anyway, I have this annoying thing called work, and it's catching up to me. What does this mean to you? Updates are going to be every OTHER day for a while, but once I steal some more time, I'll get back to every day. Oodles of toodles my noodles. xD


	14. Chapter 14

14

"You want ta go down there?" Toby was not particularly fond of Mr. T's plan. The hole in the floor had looked ominous enough without having seen its smooth bricks sides. And after peeking down, he was more unsure of crawling in it.

"Yes." Sweeney had pulled a shirt out of the trunk in his shop (why hadn't Mrs. Lovett used that for the door?) and was pulling it on. _If she used this bloody thing instead, she still might be here._ Angry at his own thoughts, Sweeney yanked another shirt out and slammed the trunk closed. Toby flinched at the sound. "I'll be.. going down first."

The tone in the barber's voice could have almost been reassuring.

* * *

"Do you need anything else?" Johanna asked, picking up Mrs. Lovett's old dress hesitantly. How the woman could stand it was beyond her.

"I'll be fine luv." Her voice came from the other side of the screen.

And how she seemed almost calm about it all, it made the girl shiver. It was almost like how the judge seemed so uncaring, even while watching his mayhem unfold through a window. Though Mrs. Lovett, she had had the sense to ask for her name, did not appear quite as at ease, she did not seem too fazed by it. And all that blood! It was as if being in the judge's house was more appalling to her than walking corpses.

The blonde fidgeted nervously in the silence, thinking on how Mrs. Lovett's situation seemed to be her fault. Swallowing down her fear, she asked a question that had been bothering her for some time. "Where you with your family when… they took you away?"

There was a soft splash from the tub, and then a sigh. "I suppose ya could say tha'. Barricaded in a shop with my boy." For Toby was good enough as. "Adopter 'im recently." In all ways except legally. "'E an' my…" Friend? Tenant? Neighbor? Love..? "Tenant were wif me."

"I…I'm sorry."

"Don't be luv." Mrs. Lovett could hear the tears in the girl's voice. "Mr. T will keep my boy safe." _Hopefully.._

"No, really.." Johanna bit her lip. "I wasn't.. _asking_, for a baker. I was.. I was asking them to bring me a mother. And I.. I never really thought I would be taking one away from a family. Or getting people hurt.. I just.. I just thought they would never find one."

Mrs. Lovett dropped the soap she held into the tub, shocked at Johanna's confession. And what it meant to have a horde of unstoppable people fetching whatever you desired.

* * *

Toby didn't know if he was happy or sad when Mr. Todd handed him the shirt full of gin. The barber was gong to tie the bundle to him, so that when he crawled down he could carrying them with use of his hands. When Toby had asked why Mr. Todd wasn't taking them, he told him he would need both hands, besides, if Toby fell he could catch him.

The boy didn't like the thought of having to rely on the barber, but he had little choice. Besides, after Mr. Todd crawled down to the bake house, he could always stay up in the shop and refuse to come down. Though being alone didn't exactly appeal to him.

"Is it loose?"

Toby jumped at the sound of Mr. Todd's voice. "N-no sir."

The barber nodded his head, tugging at the straps that held the gin one last time. He walked over to where the trapdoor resided, frowning at it as he thought about his descent. "Open it."

Shakily, the boy pressed down on the pedal with his foot.

* * *

A/N Chapter is up later than I wanted it to be.. but.. it's up. A more specific description of the 'mother' Johanna wanted will come up. Though, I admit, I nearly changed what she asked for 'cause I'm not too familiar with her character and I'm not quite sure what she would want when the opportunity presented itself.


	15. Chapter 15

15

"Here, let me." Johanna walked over to Mrs. Lovett and took the corset strings from the baker's fumbling fingers.

"Thank ya.." She mumbled, annoyed at having needed help for such a simple task. Her body ached from more than just strain, and having had the chance to examine herself she found a surprisingly large number of cuts, some of them with bits of glass still glittering in them. The conversation with the girl had kept her mind on something other than the shards that now resided at the bottom of the tub.

"Really," the girl insisted, tying off the laces. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I'm sure ya didn't luv." Mrs. Lovett consoled, giving her new dress one last scrutinizing look before putting it on. Did she want to know where it came from?

"There.. much better isn't it?" Johanna asked, hopeful to keep a thread of conversation going for more than a moment. "Than your dress..or," she blushed. "All that blood on the dress."

"It's fine." The baker mumbled, staring at her reflection and smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. "So.."

Johanna looked at her hopefully.

"'Ow did this bloody mess get started in the firs' place?"

* * *

Despite all that had happened, Toby felt a fear in his chest as he watched Mr. Todd lower himself into the chute. The plan was dangerous and seemed to become more insane with each passing moment. But Toby was willing to push that aspect of it aside, anything he and Mr. Todd got through was another step closer to finding his mum.

If there was anything to find…

He shook his head, not wanting to hear those types of thoughts. She was alive, she _had_ to be alive.

Sweeney's waist had disappeared into the floor, the look on concentration only seeming to intensify as he continued to lower himself. With his back against one wall and his feet pressing against another was probably his best bet in making a safe descent. Though the first task of initially getting himself inside the tunnel was proving more difficult than he expected.

As the last strand of his frazzled hair made it below the floorboards, Sweeney thought he heard Toby mutter 'good luck'. Though it could have been the creak of the trapdoor hinges as it swung shut, right before smashing into his body and causing him to lose his footing.

* * *

Johanna's eyes started to tear up. "Which mess?"

Mrs. Lovett opened her mouth to inquire what the girl meant, then clicked her jaw shut. "Look luv, me being 'ere is not much of a problem." _Not for you anyway._ "Please, do ya know 'ow this started?"

"It's my fault!" She wailed.

_Oh Lord,_ the baker put her hands on her hips. _Just like her mother this one._ "Stop snivelin' child, and tell me!" She snapped. Perhaps it wasn't quite right for her dislike for the child's mother to affect her opinion of her, but she didn't think there was any other way to get answers out of besides yelling anyway.

The girl looked up in shock at the woman's sudden outburst.

* * *

A/N Well, something bad had to happen to Mr. T.. I just go with a general rule things can't go well for too long. I don't think Mrs. Lovett yelling at Johanna is completely unbelievable, though I can see how it might be a little out of character for her.


	16. Chapter 16

16

Out of instinct Sweeney attempted to grab the brick walls, only causing his fingernails to tear. His shirt did little to block the rough texture of the brick, and he could feel his skin splitting open. Growls and shouts came from his throat as he attempted to slow his hurried descent. Thrusting out his feet and throwing back his head in a desperate gesture, Sweeney felt his body come to a jarring halt as he pressed it to the chute's walls. Having slammed his head into the wall during his break, he could almost see the tunnel spinning in the pitch dark.

A shuddery breath escaped him and he nearly burst into laughter. Holding himself still Sweeney was almost afraid to move, as his abused muscles began to twitch in protest at their treatment. Nausea settled in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed the sensation aside along with a strange feeling of vertigo.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calculate how far he had fallen. And if the burning sensation in his side was a broken rib, or just another bruise for his collection.

His situation didn't seem to be improving as he felt himself slowly start to slide downwards once more.

* * *

"Terrible sorry fer yellin' at ya luv." Mrs. Lovett tried to smile reassuringly at Johanna, who had seated herself in one of the room's chairs.

"Oh, it's alright. I really.." she sniffed, wiping her nose on a handkerchief. "Shouldn't be crying at all!"

_No, ya shouldn't._ The baker's smile twisted into a sarcastic one for a moment before vanishing altogether. Mrs. Lovett let the girl sniff away her tears for a moment before pressing her issue once more.

"Can ya tell me anythin'?"

"I-I don't know what they used.. But." She bit her lip. "I know what they did."

"And?" Mrs. Lovett prompted, feeling her impatience creeping back up.

"Well they.. They found men on the streets. Unimportant ones, they said." The girl had started to frown. "They would feed them something, and then give them some money before sending them away."

Unimportant people? Mrs. Lovett nearly said that out loud. Gave them some money and then just sent them off… The gears in her mind were working furiously.

"They tried to keep an eye on them. But they kept disappearing. Turpin.. he.. He thought the man at the apothecary was lying to him, and that the men were just dieing."

If her mind wasn't working so quickly to connect the dots, Mrs. Lovett might have commented on the man from the apothecary.

"But he insisted it wasn't it! Said something must just be happening to them. He-he threatened me. Thought I was telling someone.." Her eyes welled up with tears again. "I don't even know anyone!"

Mrs. Lovett subconsciously placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder, mind a million miles away. The Judge had _fed_ something to people. _Unknown_ people. _Unwanted_ people. The same types of people whom Mr. Todd _killed_ everyday, and whom she baked into _pies._ People, who suddenly gifted with some generosity, might treat themselves with a shave.

Her stomach turned, and she felt like vomiting when she realized she and Mr. Todd had been the suppliers of the Judge's 'plague' to the masses. A great part of London knew of her pies, and quite a number ate from her shop. She did throw up when she thought about how many pies one contaminated man could have made. And Turpin had lost _several_ men.

Johanna screeched with fright and protest at the mess Mrs. Lovett made on her floor.

* * *

Sweeney strained his muscles, gnashed his teeth and swore, but nothing slowed his eminent slide down. The bricks had his blood on them, making the surface slick. His back was bleeding openly as well, not helping him in his need for purchase against the walls. Though a slow descent was inevitably better than a fast one, he still had great doubts on his ability to lower himself, safely, onto the bake house floor while moving.

* * *

A/N I just can't seem to give Sweeney a break.. Heh. Well, I've solved a bit of the mystery.. And why the hell did Mrs. Lovett throw up? I think she's simply emotionally exhausted and physically spent. I mean, not even a day has gone by since this 'fic started, 'tis a lot of crap to go through in one day. xD


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Terrible sorry about the lack up update yesterday. I had someone over, was out late.. all that fun stuff. Which is kinda weird, seeing as I'm pretty sure this is the first time my personal life as ever directly interfered with my story updates.. Anyway, on a happier note, we hit ONE HUNDRED reviews last chapter! WOOT! First time for me on any of my stories. Thank you all so much for sticking around, especially on a project like this...

* * *

17

"Sorry dear."

"Oh well.. it's alright." Johanna forced a smile for the baker.

"I'll clean it up, what should I use?" Mrs. Lovett pressed her shaking hands into the folds of her skirts, hoping to conceal their tremble.

"Clean it up? Mrs. Lovett why would I let you do that?" The girl shook her head. "Though I will continue apologizing for the manner in which you were brought here, you are like a guest. I wont have you doing that work."

The baker felt like laughing at the girl, but instead she just nodded her head. Despite the circumstances, she had been raised by a 'gentlemen'. She supposed proper manners must have been instilled in the girl at a very young age, probably from a governess. Wherever that governess ended up though…

"Now.. Eh." Johanna attempted not to look at the mess, but failed spectacularly. "I'll call someone, I suppose.." Her eyes dragged themselves back to Mrs. Lovett. "Are you feeling unwell?"

The red-haired woman burst into laughter.

* * *

Was this… the end?

It was strange to think of it like that. Over. Not necessarily completed, but finished none-the-less. Sweeney didn't particularly like that.

He had never let something get in his way before, he was slowly but surely heading towards his goal. His goal was slipping away form him though, just as surely as he was sliding down to his death. Sweeney did not want to die in a chute, on a _rescue_ operation, practically within his own home. It was so utterly strange and, a little voice in the back of his head whined, _uncalled for_, that he felt like throwing a fit. But that would surely quicken his descent and end his life faster.

This was not how he wanted to die, and despite all his efforts it seemed to be where it was going to happen.

That was until, his muscles gave up on him, he started to fall (again) before hitting the second trap door at the bottom of the chute.

Finally realizing that he wasn't dead, Sweeney's face broke into a large grin. He quickly removed it, becoming irritated; though rather grateful no one had been around to see it.

* * *

Taking an involuntary step backwards, Johanna was forced to consider a new possibility about her 'guest'. Perhaps it wasn't that she was unfazed by the living dead roaming the streets, but more like the fact after witnessing them, she cracked. After all, who wouldn't be unnerved by it? And who in their right mind started to laugh after throwing up?

When her laughter dwindled to a quickly snuffed chuckle, Mrs. Lovett looked over at her hostess. "Sorry dearie, jus' an odd time to be askin' someone if they're alrigh'!"

"I suppose.." The young girl replied, debating on whether or not to take another step back. She bit her lip. "But really.. are you sure you don't want some sort of.. medical assistance?"

"Medical?" The word sounded foreign on her tongue. "No need luv, I've held myself together fine for years."

Johanna wasn't quite so sure about that.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N I stayed up 'till three in the morning watching movies with a friend, and then I woke up with a sore throat and a headache. So, I almost didn't update. And then I sat down and wrote the longest chapter this story has known.. (so far). I hope you like it.

* * *

18

Quickly getting over the fact he was still alive, Sweeney began to think on how he was supposed to get out. Toby would have to open the trap doors again, but had he heard his shouts, was he close to doing it right then and there? Despite the fact he could very quickly be deposited on the bake house floor, Sweeney didn't move.

Even if he somehow made it down and managed to keep himself alive, how was Toby to come down? There definitely wasn't enough time to crawl down safely, not without someone up top able to open the doors again.

_If they ever do_, Sweeney thought darkly, glancing up.

Slowly easing himself back up, Sweeney hissed when his bleeding back immediately protested. He had almost forgotten about that…

There was a creak above him, and wasting no more time he slammed his raw back and booted feet into the chute walls to hold himself up. It seemed Toby had finally decided to check up on him. Or come down…

* * *

He had heard a crack when the door closed, but could think of nothing. Toby remained frozen, staring down at the floorboards.

A great deal of what sounded like thrashing and curses came up to his ears, causing him to tremble. Mr. Todd had been hit with the tap door, and was falling down his own chute. That, or he felt the need to add a commentary to his descent. The boy didn't think the barber would take it upon himself to curse that much, and for no apparent reason. Of course, that was only if he was alright. If he wasn't… well, where did that leave him?

Alone. Alone and in an unsafe place. With very few options.

Whatever sounds that had been reaching him immediately stopped.

Toby went pale. Was he alive? Was he dead?

Did he care…?

He shook his head, trying to clear the thought. What did it matter now if he cared whether or not Mr. Todd lived? However much he didn't like it, he was relying on the barber. For protection, as well as a means to find and rescue his mum. He couldn't le this feelings on the matter get in the way.

Shakily, he moved back towards the pedal by the chair and pressed down. Crawling back to the open trapdoor, he took a deep breath and peeked over the edge.

"Mr. Todd?" He called down.

"Don't come down." Was the first thing out of Sweeney's mouth. He didn't want the boy killing him, did he?

"Sir?" The boy's voice sounded hollow, and echoed against the brick walls.

"The second trap door closes too soon." He shouted, feeling his grip slip with every word.

All Toby could see was darkness, though he supposed the slightly darker blob at the bottom of the chute could have been the barber. He heard something about a second trap door, which he didn't like. He opened his mouth to reply, but the floorboards swung back into place. He hurriedly turned and slammed onto the pedal with his hand.

_I'm going to die trying to tell him not to kill himself._ Sweeney scowled at the thought. The trap door above him suddenly closed, and a moment later the one below him did too. He let out a sigh, and his body relaxed onto the steel door. A familiar sound reached his ears and he slammed his aching body back into the walls.

Unless he dropped himself down to the backhouse, this was going to get old, very soon.

"Mr. Todd?"

"There's a second trap door." Sweeney snarled, becoming increasingly irritated as the pain in his limbs intensified. "When you come down, you're going to have to fall."

"Wot?" Toby nearly screamed.

"I'll catch you!" The barber shouted back.

The trap door closed again.

Sweeney ground his teeth together in an effort to keep himself from screaming. "Slow down a bit towards the end." He snapped up to Toby when the door was reopened.

Toby did not fully believe what the barber was suggesting. _Drop_ down the chute? He really had to be mad! The boy opened and shut his mouth several times before freezing at the sound of a thump. "Sir?"

"I've dropped down." The man's voice sounded even more distant.

The trap doors closed.

* * *

Even after lowering his legs down as far as he could without letting his arms collapse, Sweeney had felt quite a jar as his body had dropped. After taking a few breaths and looking around to confirm he was still alive, he stood up and looked back up the tunnel. He informed Toby that he was down, and then steel quickly blocked his view.

Toby pressed down on the pedal once more, wondering if he was imagining it, or if he trembled a bit more every time he did so. "Sir?" He called down.

"Jump down." Was all he heard.

Jump. He most certainly didn't want too. How was he supposed to slow himself down anyway? The gin he was supposed to be protecting clinked together as he shifted nervously. Jump down into the arms of a man you don't trust. How was he supposed to know he would get caught anyway?

He stared down at his shoes, biting his lip.

"Jump, damn it!" The trap door closed again, nearly cutting off the barber's words.

Taking a deep breath, Toby closed his hands into fists and hit them into the ground. He had to do this. His mum needed him!

Swallowing down his fear, he reached out his quivering hand to press the pedal, stood, and then stepped off into the mouth of the chute.

* * *

A/N I'm not quite sure it would be possible for Toby to actually live, regardless of being caught, or managing to slow himself down. But you know, the Judge gets stabbed multiple time and gets dropped on his head, and still lives. So, I think this little act can slide. If Sweeney even catches him.. -evil smirk-


	19. Chapter 19

A/N Mrs. Lovett and Johanna seem a bit.. moody in this chapter (at least, that's sorta what ended up happening) really, they'll become a bit more stable once I get more in control of Johanna's character. I'm still just exploring so, bear with me xD

* * *

19

Once the mess was cleaned and perfume put on the carpet and into the air, Johanna was once again left alone with Mrs. Lovett. Only this time she wasn't particularly sure she wanted to be. So instead of talking to the baker she sat by the window and commenced cross-stitching.

Ignoring her host's suddenly wary nature, Mrs. Lovett procured her rolling pin and seated herself in an armchair. Frowning at the blood stains, she gave an absent minded flick at what could have once been someone's skin.

Johanna flinched at the gesture, but continued what she was doing in hope that it was overlooked.

Mrs. Lovett narrowed her eyes at the girl. "Wot kind of mother was you lookin' for dear?" The question granted her the attention of the blonde. Not liking the blank look she was receiving, Mrs. Lovett drew on her well of annoyances and added, quite nastily; "ya don't seem my type." It was difficult for her to keep the sneer on her face, but Mrs. Lovett felt she needed to have a catalyst to get their communication back.

That, or the stress of the day and Mr. T's personality were rubbing of on her.

"I-" Johanna stopped her indignant speech before it even started, though her grip tightened on her sewing. She frowned fiercely at the baker. "I should hope not. Being the type of someone who is quite.. mad.. does not appeal to me." Despite the firm nod she gave at the end of her words, she looked frightened.

The woman with the rolling pin waited.

The blonde burst into tears. "I'm so sorry Mrs. Lovett! It's just, this day has been so strange.. and.." She hiccupped. "And.."

"If you're going to yell, I wont stop you." She smiled softly, all trace of her previous cruelty gone. In truth, Mrs. Lovett was rather comforted by the child's outburst, as it reminded her of her barber.

Johanna's tears fell quickly, then vanished. Though Mrs. Lovett's actions had only been a ploy to get the girl talking, she saw it as more confirmation of her insanity.

A much more comfortable silence befell the room before Johanna took it upon herself to start the conversation over. "You wanted to know what kind of mother I was asking for?" She barely waited for the nod before continuing. "Well.. I actually wanted to ask for my mother.. But I know she has to be dead, or stark mad for leaving me with this.. Man."

Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened in shock at the child's proclamation, nearly dropping her jaw at how close the child's guesses were.

The blonde bit her lip, not seeing the baker's face. "Not that I want to think of my mother as a bad person.. I just wish I could have known her. So," she actually smiled softly. "I asked for someone close to my mother."

Though Johanna was obviously thinking as someone close, as in characteristically wise, Mrs. Lovett came to the very sudden conclusion that somehow the creatures knew that she was, in all physical senses, the closest one to Johanna's mother. Before she went mad of course, though she still did hang around the shop.

The blue eyes turned earnestly to the baker. "I'm just.. I'm just surprised I got you."

"Oh luv," Mrs. Lovett leaned forward despite the several foot gap between their chairs. "I am nothing like your mother."

* * *

He was scared out of his wits and every sense told him he was going to die. But a part of Toby was oddly thrilled and incredibly excited about his plummet down. So when the short cry emitted from his throat, he was unsure as if it came from fear, or excitement.

Remembering he was supposed to be slowing down at some point, Toby thrusted his small legs forward, thinking on how Mr. Todd had lowered himself into the chute. Though it did slow him down, it caused him a great deal of pain, and his head nearly started to fall first. In an effort to keep them from occurring her wrenched a muscle in his neck trying to keep straight.

Though it became imprinted in his mind as an eternity, Toby found himself in the bake house in a manner of seconds. In fact, he was in a strong pair of arms.

Though that only lasted a second as well.

Blinking away stars, Toby slowly lifted his head. The walls spun and his heart continued racing with adrenaline. Several of the gin bottles were broken, and his front was wet. Deciding to mourn their loss later, he brought himself to shaky feet.

"Mr. Todd?"

The lack of answer was definitely not encouraging.

"Mr. Todd?" His voice had grown smaller, and it was nearly a croak. Toby's eyes finally forced him to look.

The barber was sprawled on the ground, having been knocked down when Toby came hurtling into his arms. He wasn't moving.

* * *

A/N Heh.. nothing good every happens to Mr. T! I had also had a lot of fun planning out the next chapter.. y'know. The whole, 'omygod' you know my mother? reaction from Johanna.


	20. Chapter 20

20

"Mr. Todd.. Sir?" Toby knew it was pointless, but he still had to ask. Untying his gin soaked bundle of gin, the boy carefully set down his cargo before creeping up to the barber.

His eyes were closed, and his mouth was opened slightly. If he wasn't always so pale Toby would have thought he was dead.

A sudden cough wracked the man's body, causing Toby to jump in shock. The man's dark eyes slid open and immediately landed on the boy.

"I said I would catch you."

His voice was so cracked and soft Toby was almost positive he had misheard. The boy's jaw hung open as Sweeney slowly sat up.

"Get me some gin." He growled, as if he hadn't said anything.

* * *

Johanna stared at Mrs. Lovett. "You…?"

_Shit,_ the baker thought, dropping her face into her hands. "I knew 'er, yes."

"Why didn't..?"

"'Ow I knew 'er is a long, complicated story." She looked back up at the girl, hoping her questions would stop.

"Please." Johanna was across the room and on her knees in front of the woman before she could blink. "Tell me."

The baker sighed. "Ya don't want to hear it."

"I do!" She insisted.

"Alrigh', ya do, but ya wont want ta 'ave 'eard it after I tell it ta ya. It's best ya don't hear it." Mrs. Lovett was begging just as much as the girl on her knees in front of her.

"Mrs. Lovett.. Ma'm.. please. Just.. Something."

Her grip tightened and loosened on the rolling pin as she considered the request. "She an' your father rented space above my shop."

The girl looked positively delighted.

"They were good people." Mrs. Lovett's voice was rather flat and emotionless as she spoke, but Johanna's didn't seem to notice. All she did was lap up the scraps of information she was given.

"Where?" She asked, almost breathless.

"Fleet Street." Her dead-pan tone was difficult to ignore, but Johanna was, mind gone off.

"Fleet Street?" The blonde muttered. "That's where Mr. Mayhew's shop is."

"Mayhew?" Mrs. Lovett snapped, suddenly becoming very animated. "_James _Mayhew?"

"Yes, he runs the apothecary there." She frowned, then realization hit her. "You must know him!"

"Yes." The rolling pin was pulled close to her chest. "Yes.. yes I do."

* * *

"There isn't much left, I'm 'fraid sir."

"Fine." Sweeney snapped, taking the gin soaked shirt over a bottle. "This is fine." He amended, holding the cloth up to his face and taking a deep breath.

Toby watched him, perplexed.

"This will be fine." the man grumbled, most likely to himself. Tearing apart the shirt, and looking as if in pain while doing so, Sweeney handed the shirt back to Toby. "Cover your mouth." Without anything else, he walked towards a contraption near the oven.

The boy watched the arm the man kept wrapped around his side suspiciously. Mr. Todd surely had to be going through hell to even be showing that much. Almost putting the cloth to his nose subconsciously, Toby took a calming breath, which was amplified by the familiar scent and taste of gin. Following after the barber, he almost wished he hadn't when a dismembered hand sailed over his head.

Without the cloth Toby was sure he would have vomited at the sight of limbs poking out of what looked like a meat grinder. As Sweeney threw a foot almost casually over his shoulder, the boy gagged.

"Something.." the man growled, throwing another limb.

Standing as far away as he dared, Toby kept his eyes on the ground. Being left alone to think for a moment brought a strange realization to him. Mr. Todd had always come across as the silent type, hardly ever talking. Especially in Mrs. Lovett's company. And yet, ever since the appearance of dead men and especially after she had been taken away, the man had engaged in several conversations and had taken to talking to himself out loud. The boy let his mind take itself on a flight of fancy, imagining that Mr. Todd missed Mrs. Lovett, and was talking to fill the silence like she most certainly would have.

Of course, that didn't account for everything before her departure. Lifting his eyes off the floor for just a moment, Toby let them rest on Sweeney's back.

Another growl of 'something' echoed through the bake house.

* * *

A/N Well, I hope chapter twenty wasn't too disappointing.. Bwahaha.. no clues as to how Mrs. Lovett knows Mr. Mayhew ;)


	21. Chapter 21

21

He had always had it. Or, Benjamin had always had it. That photogenic-but-not-quite memory. Everything he saw somehow always managed to stay in his head, he was always able to look back on his day and recount everything.

In Australia his gift for remembering became more like a horrible curse, as it felt each sweat and blood drop on his body was forever imprinted on his mind. Oh course hard labor and abuse from wardens was just part of the cruelties there. He had to quickly learn to shut things out, forget. Most of his memories turned inward after the first few months, locked away, never to be revisited. More and more of his time was spent on the older, happier ones.

Sweeney paused mid throw (it was a foot this time) as a sudden realization came to him. When Benjamin started to lock away his pain into one corner of his mind, was that his start? Was that his beginning, stitching himself together from the memories the man couldn't cope with? With a discontented growl, he threw the foot.

The demon barber had much the same memory as the man he came from, but he cared little for revisiting his memories, and often let Benjamin's haunt him.

Of course, everything was still there, locked away, waiting for something to let it out. Thankfully there was very little London held that could make of him think of his prison, and the painful days were kept under lock and key.

Many of his memories on his return to London underwent the same treatment. Not that much of what he saw really needed to reach his consciousness anyway.

Right now the fact was rather irritating.

He had pieced together easily enough the connection to the pies and the hordes of people suddenly eating one another. Sweeney highly doubted Mrs. Lovett could have done it, besides, why would she want to? So he went looking for information.

A scrap of clothing, a ring, perhaps a certain complexion in a customer's skin could trigger his memory. Quite a few prattled on incessantly while he prepped them for a shave, and each and every word was stored and then locked away in his mind. Someone surely had to have mentioned _something_ strange, something he could go off of. _Something_ that could lead him to who did it.

Each body part he looked at seemed to fuel his irritation, turning it into anger. Never before had his ability to store and ignore all things been a nuisance.

* * *

Mrs. Lovett ran her hands across his rolling pin, smearing them once more with blood and quite possibly brain.

Johanna watched her for a moment before going back to her chair and picking up her cross-stitching. Feeling oddly at ease with the feeling her guest was insane, she thought back on the scraps of information that had been given to her. It never occurred to her that Mrs. Lovett could be lying, and instead embellished on the vague statements.

'They were good people' sent her mind off in a million different directions, and after only a moments hesitation, she started to speak of them out loud.

It wasn't as if she was crazy, Mrs. Lovett was there after all, though after hearing Mr. Mayhew's name she seemed to have become unresponsive. She talked about the different ways her parents must have dressed, what their favorite time of the year could have been and speculated on what her father did for a living. Which, strangely enough, was what brought Mrs. Lovett back to reality.

"Barber."

Johanna nearly stabbed herself with the needle. "Excuse me?" She asked, still a little surprised at hearing the woman's voice.

"Your father was a barber."

"Oh.."

"He was the best in London until he got sent away."

"Sent away?" The girl asked, feeling a strange tightening in her chest. She had made assumptions about her mother, but never before had she ever thought on why her father hadn't kept her.

"Life imprisonment."

Johanna felt like crying. Her father was a convict. She stared at the needle in her hand, seeing its tremble.

Mrs. Lovett finally noticed the girl's shakiness and cursed herself. That was exactly the type of thing she was trying to avoid with Johanna. The dirty details, and the way she herself knew the truths when no one else did.

Her mind, however, skipped over caring for Johanna and went back to James Mayhew. Mrs. Lovett began to chew on her lip.

Why did it have to be him?

* * *

A/N Coming up with Sweeney's very tweaky memory was incredibly fun.. I've noticed a severe lack of dead-men-walkin' so they'll probably be coming up within the next few chapters. I'll also say I've noticed how little has actually happened in the past few chapters, and will quite possibly apologize if the slowness keeps continuing.


	22. Chapter 22

22

Toby quickly came to realize that he was standing in just the place Mr. Todd was throwing the body parts. Deciding to do his own body a favor, he moved around the muttering barber towards the other wall. Taking a calming breath from his gin-cloth, the boy took in the sight of a pile of bones. His stomach twisted, but he ignored it as he bent down to pick up a piece of cloth. It was ripped, and had a great deal of blood on it.

His mum dealt with this every day?

He dropped the cloth and turned his attention back to Mr. Todd. The barber had just finished throwing a large chunk of calf meat when he caught sight of the bones by Toby. The boy began to quiver at the intense look the barber had on his face.

Marching around the grinder and even forgetting to hold his bruised side, Sweeney went straight for the cloth scrap that Toby had dropped. Stepping hurriedly back from the man, the boy watched with interest as he bent to pick up the cloth.

Painfully standing back up, Sweeney grimaced briefly before eagerly turning his attention back to the scrap.

Mrs. Lovett had attempted to sweeten his tea with honey that day, but only succeeded in leaving a foul taste in Sweeney's mouth for the rest of it. He had been in a slightly worse than normal mood because of it, and had been having a hard time keeping the glower off his face. A particular man had come in, prattling on about someone's generosity and the good in the world.

If Sweeney recalled correctly, his razor nearly got stuck in the man's throat from how deep he had forced it into his flesh.

Pushing aside the bloody technicality he tried to remember exactly _who_ the man had said was being generous.

Toby wanted to flee as he witnessed the barber's face contort into an expression of maddened rage and unmistakable bloodlust. The syllable he growled out sent shivers crawling down the boy's spine.

"_Judge_."

* * *

"Do you.. do you know what he did? To get.. sent away?"

Forcing herself to listen to the girl, Mrs. Lovett debated on what to tell her. 'Yes' could lead down the long and tiresome road of exactly how she knew. After all, when one said 'he was falsely accused' a 'how do you know' would be sure to follow. Saying no could very well send the girl's mind off in a million different directions, making her think badly on a man who was really quite fine.

"He was a good man." She insisted, deciding to go with a third option.

Johanna frowned at the baker's insistence, but didn't question it. "How long did you know them?" She asked instead.

"They were looking for a place to stay, two weeks after they got married." She refrained from mentioning she had spoken to them occasionally before. There was no point, people tended to run into one another at the market. Not that Mrs. Lovett would find herself following the very handsome Mr. Baker around, or anything.

"Were you good friends?"

"As much as we could be.. Wot with me Albert who 'e was an 'im enamored ta Lucy.." Mrs. Lovett hurriedly stopped herself. Johanna was obviously inquiring about both her parents, not just her father. Looking at the girl nervously, she hoped her fatal error would go unnoticed. Expressing a desire for an affair with her father was perhaps not the best way to go about being friends. If their relationship was anything close to friendship.

Johanna, fortunately for Mrs. Lovett, was not too observant a character, and had been distracted by learning her mother's name. "Lucy?" She whispered, almost completely forgetting what else had been said. "My father is.. Albert?'

The baker forced herself to laugh, relieved her proclamation was overlooked. "No. 'E was my husband. Your father's name was Benjamin."

Old and forgotten memories suddenly flooded back to her the moment his name left her tongue. It had never even occurred to her to think on them after Sweeney had shown up. For a man so obsessed with his past, he rather didn't like it when someone else brought it up.

"Benjamin and Lucy." The girl played with the names, enjoying the sound.

"Barker." Mrs. Lovett concluded for her. "Turpin ne'er…?"

Her expression went sour. "No."

"Sounds 'bout right for someone like 'em."

Johanna took a quick breath before letting her questions spill out. "How did I end up with him? What happened to my mother after my father was sent away?"

Mrs. Lovett noted her shyness was about as fickle as her ability to pay attention. "I really shouldn't be tellin' ya these things luv."

"Who will?" She pressed.

The child's logic was impressive, but it still granted no response from the woman across from her.

* * *

A/N There's going to be fire in the next chapter. Lots and lots of fire. On another note, how many of you actually like it when an author replies to your review? I'm just curious, because I don't do it. As I'm sure you've noticed.. though it's a different story if you ask a question.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N Bit late, but it is now the longest I've written.. though I'm going to have to apologize a bit, the fire has been put off until the next chapter. I 'introduce' Mayhew though! (oh, you have no idea how much fun I'm going to have developing his character) On another note, in relation to reviews you kind people have given me, I hope to think I didn't come off as a bit of a snot. You people actually read this story- I appreciate that. Meaning I'll be taking into account that strange 'review reply' button that exists... Enjoy-

* * *

23

Every nerve, perception and instinct inside of him was screaming at him to run. But shock or flat out denial at what he was seeing kept Toby where he was. He was afraid of moving least he capture the murderous and wicked looking barber's attention. Whoever this judge was, terrible things were sure to happen to him. The boy could only briefly wonder what could have caused this emotion from Mr. Todd when he finally managed to gasp.

A pair of oddly looking demonic eyes snapped to him.

"M-Mr. Todd s-sir.." He raised a shaky hand to point at the barber's face.

Suddenly looking every inch a normal man (if Mr. Todd was ever really normal to begin with) he reached up to his own face with a slight look of curiosity. His fingers came in contact with a bit of blood dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

Cursing, he began to pull of his rather tattered shirt.

Toby was still frozen, completely unsure of how to react to this new situation. The boy bit his lip to stifle another gasp, holding the cloth closer to his face.

A large grotesque looking bruise had formed all along Mr. Todd's left side, and hardly noticeable in the dim light, was blood smeared across his shoulders and back from several seeping wounds.

Mr. Todd looked mildly irritated.

* * *

"I knew she was familiar, but this is.. unacceptable." Turpin growled.

The man who he was talking to only nodded his head.

"Could you.." he started to pace. "make it soluble.. Lace a drink with it? I need to get her away from Johanna."

"I could.. try."

"You'd damned well better, Mayhew! Who knows what filth she's spewing at her?"

"What if you were to simply.. let me take her away? Or why don't you just take her away from Johanna?"

"She's finicky enough as it is. If I start taking away what I let her have I'll have more trouble, and why would I want that when it can be avoided?"

Mayhew nodded his head, running a hand through his hair and looking slightly sick.

"Well?" Turpin snapped.

The apothecary leapt up from his chair.

* * *

"Sir, ya should-" A lot growl informed Toby to stop talking, which he promptly complied too.

Sweeney pulled the filthy shirt back over his head, deciding he wanted something over nothing. "Gather what's left of the gin."

The boy hurriedly did as asked, moving to where he had set down the bottles. "Should I-"

"How much is left?"

Feeling too afraid to complain about being cut-off, Toby squinted at the bottles to try and see how much was in them. "Ones full.. 'nother has a leak.." he hadn't noticed that before, he looked nervously at the barber to see if he somehow disapproved. "An' the others full."

"Good."

Toby stayed silent, watching Mr. Todd walk across the bake house.

"Coming?"

The boy jumped before scurrying over to the door. He had never seen so much blood in his life, not to mention minced corpses. He had never felt so confused, desperate and disgusted in his entire life. As a result his mind was becoming a rather difficult thing to hold onto. Especially when his company was a man who appeared to be experiencing none of those emotions, despite the given situation.

The high pitched squeal from the protesting hinges of the bake house door nearly made him drop the gin.

* * *

"Mrs. Lovett, please."

"I've told ya enough."

"I have a right to know!"

"Being forceful isn't going to help ya any dearie."

"Please."

_Nor will begiin',_ the baker thought with irritation. Couldn't the girl just go back to sewing and daydreaming? Now she was beginning to understand why Mr. T liked silence. She wasn't this annoying, surely?

"…please?" Johanna's pretty blue eyes were playing for all they had, trying to sway Mrs. Lovett.

"_No._"

* * *

"Ya want to _wot?!_" Toby squeaked, eyes round with surprise and glued to Mr. Todd.

The barber was hardly paying attention to the boy, though. After being reminded of the judge, and coming to the conclusion he had Mrs. Lovett (though more out of biased feeling than fact), a thought had crawled into Sweeney's mind and refused to leave.

People were ambling around the streets devouring one another. Who cared what happened?

Who cared if a judge was brutally murdered in his own home?

Sweeney could feel his pulse quicken at the thought of a no strings attached kill. At least, a relatively no-strings-attached kill. No doubt someone would _eventually_ care to look into it.

But until then… and especially before!

Besides, after he killed the judge he intended to be long gone before any one found out.

"Sir!" Toby squeaked again, having received no response before. "'Ow can ya think ta-"

"They don't like fire." He growled through gritted teeth, annoyed at being spoke to when he wanted to think. "It's a useful distraction."

"But we could-"

Sweeney spun and grabbed the front of Toby's shirt. "I'm burning the shop down whether or not you're outside with me."

The boy nodded his head.

* * *

"_Well?_"

Turpin was most certainly _not_ apatientman. Mayhew gritted his teeth to keep himself from snapping. "I'm working." Came out in a surprisingly calm tone. He was anything but at the moment.

"_And?_"

Did he _have_ to loom?

"I'm working." He repeated, some of his irritation leaking out.

The judge narrowed his eyes at Mayhew's back before stomping out of the room.

_Ungrateful brat,_ James thought, rolling his shoulders to ease their tension. They suddenly drooped and he set down the instruments he had been holding.

Why did she have to get sent for?

She was supposed to be safe in her shop. Well, Eleanor would actually be safe anywhere, but that was beside the point.

James pressed his fingers to his temple, ignoring the graying hair that fell in front of his eyes. They could've been far away…

* * *

Toby knew better than to protest against Mr. Todd's actions twice, but as the pile of things grew at the center of the room, he felt like screaming.

All creatures had vacated the shop and home, having ambled out onto the people infested streets. Quite a few were still actually on the stairs, pushing themselves against the barber shop door.

_Stupid blighters,_ Toby thought angrily. He had to start scrubbing at tears when Mr. Todd started throwing books onto the pile of furniture.

Looking satisfied, the barber began to poor the gin over the pile of textiles, literature and scraped wood.

Toby thought about tackling Mr. Todd, demanding another way out. Another escape root. The man seemed set on burning everything down though, and as he lit a match Toby felt all rebellious thoughts vanish.

Fire from the match reflected in the barber's eyes, eerily showing the same psychotic look he had had in the bake house.

No one could have _made_ him touch Mr. Todd at that moment.


	24. Chapter 24

24

The flame seemed to slow as it neared its intended fuel, and Toby could see the yellow flames lean towards the gin coated curtain as if impatient to taste it. Toby thought time had stopped before he noticed it was just Mr. Todd. A little smile appeared on the man's face as he stared at the tiny fire in his hand.

"Only partly singed when the chapel burned down."

The boy registered the sudden appearance of greedy flames before he understood what Mr. Todd had said.

* * *

Mayhew needed a plan, some type of stall or a tiny ruse to throw of Judge Turpin. Within the makeshift lab at the judge's home, no plan along those lines seemed forthcoming.

He had come to Turpin with an arrogant confidence in his work. Would he notice if it suddenly vanished and problems arose? It was an unknown he didn't want to risk her life on.

He couldn't risk _anything_ that put her in possible danger, which immediately crushed the plan of going back to his shop (under the impression he 'needed supplies' so he could buy some more time ). Though even traveling around London with an escort of infected had risks. The compound had spread quickly. Incredibly quickly.

His mind wandered briefly to ponder that unknown before snapping its focus back to his problem.

James needed to find a way to get Eleanor out of the judge's clutches. It would probably be better if she didn't know he was part of it, though he had intended to tell her. In a safe, preferably far away, obedient-man-eating-slave free environment.

Why were they eating people?

He shook his head. _Focus._ _You can't leave, Turpin might get annoyed and send the Beadle to stand over your shoulder if you take too long.._

"Ger her out of that room!" He muttered to himself. Maybe he could send an invitation and discuss their predicament over tea… She probably wouldn't believe it was him, and the judge seemed to want her dead the moment she was away from Johanna. After all, once the compound was in your system, you didn't have much time left until the effects were irreversible.

If they even were, he had never had the chance to use the antidote..

"Focus!" He snapped to himself.

Was she going to look the same, after all those years? James couldn't bring himself to stop thinking about that.

* * *

"Mrs. Lovett, I can't believe- I can't-"

"Can't what?"

"Please?"

Maybe if she threw-up again the girl would take it upon herself to shut-up. Mrs. Lovett gave the blonde the stink-eye before relaxing her features. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Can ya please stop pesterin' me love?"

Johanna frowned thoughtfully. No one had ever acted around her the same way Mrs. Lovett was. She rather liked the change in attitude, though in regards to the remarks being made about her character… well she didn't like it that much. Which she supposed was actually part of the reason she liked the woman. She didn't dislike her in the way she did Turpin or Bamford. They were just disgusting, and seemed to be made for being disliked. Mrs. Lovett, by no means, seemed the type made for rude thoughts. Johanna supposed it was the woman's insanity. She could irritate you, but you could never dislike her for it.

As most of her time had been spent staring at people out of a rather large window, she had developed a strange knowledge of how people reacted around one another. Well, how they responded physically. She could never actually hear that well from her room…

She had seen women scold their children for doing something wrong, but cuff men about the heads for much the same offenses.

Mrs. Lovett was simply a different form of irritation; like children compared to adults.

"Love, are you alright?"

The girl jumped at the voice. "Oh, I must have.."

"Gone off?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Lovett quickly decided that endless chatter was better than that oddly glazed look her eyes had possessed when she had been thinking. At least, it had been odd when her eyes were still directed at her, but not looking.

It was down right creepy. She fidgeted in her chair when the blonde started to un-focus again. Perhaps she and her father had more in common than the baker originally thought.

Mrs. Lovett gave a light cough to bring back the child's attention. "Your father.."

* * *

Sweeney kept himself pressed to the ground, grinning like the mad-man most people would think he was. Well, every person who knew they were going to die by him probably thought he was mad. That counted, right?

"Sir?" Toby coughed; the room was filling with smoke.

They had raided the cabinet and taken the remaining bottles of gin (one was split between them, though it disappeared after a few swigs) and left flammable trails to various rooms from the starting fire. Sweeney insisted on waiting for the flames to spread and to wait until the creatures noticed the smoke.

He supposed Toby was afraid he was going to wait until the building collapsed around them. Truth be told Sweeney rather liked the sound and smells the collapsing home and shop were making.

"Sir!" The boy coughed again.

"Head for the door." He snapped, Toby was rather eagerly complied.

The creatures had sluggishly made their way off the patio and cleared the area in front of the shop as well, though they didn't travel too far past that. A number were still on the stairs that lead to the barber shop, though that may have been because they didn't want to walk past the orange tinted windows.

Once out of the burning building Toby had hurried over to collect another chair for bashing, while Sweeney rested his aching body against the warm, smoky glass, or the pie shop door.

"And what would you say about me now, my pet?" He mumbled to himself.

* * *

"_Mayhew!_"

The apothecary seemed to jump out of his skin.

"Do you have something ready to serve to her?" Turpin growled.

"Well-"

"Well? You'd better hurry. I heard giggling!"

"Erh.." A confused expression spread across his face. "Giggling?"

"Yes!"

"They could have been talking about anything." He stated, not sure why laughter was such a problem. It rather relieved him, informing him she was just sitting their in stuffy silence.

"Exactly!" The man fumed.

* * *

"An' then, your father comes _runnin'_ down the stairs, all frightened like! 'Mrs. Lovett!' 'E screams, barging into me shop. 'Mrs. Lovett!' An' I was just standin' there, rollin' some pasty when 'e came in. I felt genuinely scared! 'Wot is it?' I asked 'im. 'Lucy's seen a rat, an' she wont come off the wardrobe!'"

Johanna giggled at Mrs. Lovett's story, happy to be hearing something, even though it wasn't what she wanted. An odd nostalgic look appeared in the baker's eye as she told the story, and when she spoke it was almost as if she was proud to be telling it. Johanna supposed one had to hold onto something, even if it was silly stories.

"'Tha's it?' I asked 'im, feelin' a fool fer gettin' worked up. Oh but it wasn' the worst of it!" A genuine grin appeared on Mrs. Lovett's face. "'E gets all pale like and starts whisperin'. 'I don' think she can get down!' Ha! After she got up, she can't get down? 'Ow silly is that? An' she couldn' jump neither, 'fraid of hurtin' 'erself or Benjamin! So I went up there to 'elp 'im coax her down, not really believin' it ta begin with. But sure enough, tha's where she was. Never even quite sure on 'ow she got up!"

"How did you help her down?" Johanna asked, taking the opportunity as Mrs. Lovett had stopped to catch her breath.

"Well, first I went about lookin' fer the rat. I couldn't find even a trace of it, but she insisted it was there. O' course, Benjamin's runnin' about the room all frantic like, jus' askin' 'er to jump. I thought 'e might stir the thing up, if there was one."

"And?"

"It was a 'airbrush."

"No!"

Mrs. Lovett nodded her head, letting out a laugh. "It was! They were both so embarrassed! Couldn' look me strait in the eye fer _days._"

"But how did you get her down?" Johanna asked, trying not to laugh at her parents.

"Fetched a stool, Benjamin 'eld her 'and all the way down." Her laughter faded, but the smile still remained on her face.

* * *

"The next time you ask if I am alright, you wont be," Sweeney snarled, keeping his anger narrowed eyes off his companion.

Toby's knuckled turned white from how strongly he held his new chair. He wanted to throw it at the barber, even if it would do the both of them more harm then good. The man was pushing himself, _had_ pushed himself, beyond the brink of what was normal. Even though it was dusk there was considerably more light outside then there had been in, and his filthy beraggled appearance was made all too clear. He was holding his bruised side and moving nearly as slow as the creatures they were attempting to get away from.

The boy had vocalized his concerns, but by his second attempt the low grunt responses turned into a splatter of blood as one of the barber's razors cut across a monster. He learned to quickly get over it, or be left behind in the blood soaked streets.

Even with what remained of the pie shop still just around the corner London was a sorry sight. Toby hoped they might find someone else who managed to survive, or perhaps a force helping to control things. The only signs of life he detected were hastily boarded doors, which appeared to have been torn open.

"Sir.." he felt the cold eyes on him and hurried to continue. "Ain't it odd they got into e'ery buildin' 'cept your shop?"

Mr. Todd appeared satisfied with the question, but still didn't answer.

The boy bit his lip, casting anxious glances everywhere. "'Ow much farther?"

* * *

A/N In general observation I believe every character in Sweeney Todd is slightly crazy. I'm doing my best to not exclude Mayhew.. y'know, just trying to make the OC fit in. I had a lot of fun coming up with Mrs. Lovett's story.. turned inward to a world full of embarrassment and giggles.. it was awesome.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N Short and late.. Meep! Oh well, there's some much needed plot development in this chapter. I think I've screwed up in my portrayal of the judge, but you never know how long he's going to last anyway... Also, I'm working on a school project so I might miss my next update. Toodles-

* * *

25

All forms of communication pathetically dwindled to nothing as Toby and Sweeney continued their trek. The boy began to wonder if Mr. Todd even knew where they were going, after all, his head could be just as injured as the rest of his body. But as they reached another street corner, the man made a decisive turn, then stopped.

Toby assumed they either finally made it to their destination, or they were lost.

* * *

"You're done aren't you? You're just dawdling to make me out as a fool! Where is it?"

Mayhew began to seriously wonder if the judge had snapped under the stress of the long day.

"She's in there with _my _Johanna.."

He sighed, the man wasn't crazy. At least, not in the way Mayhew hoped. He was simply incredibly possessive of his ward.

"I have something." He finally cut it, getting a little fed-up with the man's ranting.

"Give it here!"

"May I suggest something?"

"What?"

"Have them come down to the parlor." This was it.. his stupid, ingenious plan.

"Why?" Turpin huffed, acting like a three year old.

"So you can lace her drink without accidentally poisoning Johanna."

"Bamford!" He suddenly shouted, nearly making Mayhew jump.

"Yes milord?" The man appeared as if out of thin air.

"Fetch Johanna and her.. guest. We'll be having a meeting in the parlor."

The beadle nodded his head and disappeared soundlessly. James always found it rather creepy a man of his size could slip around unnoticed.

Turpin held out his hand, and when all Mayhew did was stare at it, he cocked an eyebrow and hissed "well?"

It felt as if the room suddenly dropped in temperature as he handed over the phial.

* * *

"Just down this street.." The barber's pace quickened, as if to make up for the time spent standing still.

Toby knew better than to assume Mr. Todd was talking to him, so instead he cast the barber what was surely the millionth uneasy glance that day. The delighted and crazed look in the man's eye seemed to grow sharper at every step they took.

The pair suddenly halted, again.

"I suppose tha's the place." Toby grumbled, staring uneasily at the crowd of drooling Londoners that were positioned around the gate.

* * *

Mrs. Lovett did not particularly want to leave the security of Johanna's room; if a place in the home was even secure, but she felt she had little choice when the beadle came to inform them they were invited downstairs.

Invited in her own home, really! Johanna didn't seem to find it that odd though. In fact, she forced a smile for the beadle and said they would be down in just a moment. He tipped his heat but waited at the doorway anyway. Both woman took this as a sign they were to hurry.

Immediately feeling suspicious, Mrs. Lovett kept a tight hold on her rolling pin.

* * *

Turpin brushed at a patch of powder on his vest, starting to frown when it didn't disappear. He growled and began to vigorously rub at the spot until the sound of a clearing throat brought him back to reality.

"What is it?" He snapped.

"They're on the stairs." Mayhew walked past him and into the study. He didn't want her to see him just yet, but he needed to be closer than his makeshift lab. Luckily Turpin didn't question his actions.

* * *

"I think we can jus' walk past 'em sir."

The scowl remained fixed on Sweeney's face.

"They ain't doin' nothin'." Toby continued. "More than they normally don't do."

As the barber's silence continued the boy grew nervous.

Without a word he started to walk (or really limp) towards the door of the house. Toby didn't see a flicker of fear or hesitation in the man's eyes as he neared the horde, so he hurried after him. They didn't move as they walked past them, in fact, they seemed completely unaware that they were there.

Sweeney's smirk had turned into a grin by the time they reached the door. It was unlocked.

* * *

"So nice of ya ta 'ave us down." Mrs. Lovett drawled, feeling immediately angered just by being in the judge's presence. She also felt slightly frightened, but tired her best to make sure that it didn't show through.

A forced smile twitched at the corner of the man's mouth.

Johanna looked between the two before hurriedly taking Mrs. Lovett's arm and guiding her to a chair. She took the one next to it, feeling oddly nervous as she did so. Perhaps it was the glare that Turpin had fixed on Mrs. Lovett, or the one she was sending back at him. But it could have been something else.

"Is there a reason you wanted us sir?" She asked politely, not knowing quite knowing which of the two adults seemed more intent on killing the other with their eyes.

"Tea." He choked out, dragging his eyes to the table.

"Ya bloody well called us down for tea? We coulda done fine in her room!"

"Silence!" Turpin snarled, quickly losing all pretense of being polite.

_Eleanor,_ Mayhew thought with a smile; head pressed against the study door. Her temper could always runaway with her. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as the shouting continued. James had planned on calmly walking into the parlor (eventually) and hopefully manage to prevent her from consuming any laced tea which the judge offered her. He had, unfortunately, been holding a phial of the stuff when the judge stormed in.

James winced at the loud shouts coming through the door, suddenly doubting Eleanor would ever even drink any tea.

"-you bitch!"

"Oh! 'Ow dare ya!"

Having vacated her chair almost right after she sat in it, Mrs. Lovett was now standing next to the coffee table, the judge just across from her.

"How dare I what?" He snarled.

As if to prove some point Mrs. Lovett brought up her rolling pin and swung at Turpin. He caught her arm and pulled her forward, forcing her face to be inches from his.

"Don't try that in my house again."

Furious, Mrs. Lovett pulled herself out of his grip and swung again.

This time she caught him in the side of the head, sending him to the floor in a crumbled heap.

"Ha!" She practically screeched, pointing her rolling pin at him. "Try what?!"

The study door burst open, and her attention immediately transferred to it. "Eleanor!" James gasped, gawping at the scene. The beadle was staring at the crazed looking baker in shock, Johanna remained in her chair attempting not to look at anything, and the judge, well; the judge was still on the ground.

"James?" Her voice had turned calm, and she simply stared at him.

* * *

Considering the first door he attempted to open was full of frightened maids, Sweeney decided he needed a better means of locating Mrs. Lovett, or the judge.

What sounded like shouting suddenly echoed down the hall, causing Toby to go rigid.

Sweeney figured who ever was on the other side of the door was who he was looking for.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N I warned you, didn't I? Anyway, I was working a project.. my birthday managed to sneak up on me, and then this chapter wouldn't come out right. 'Tis shorter than the more recent ones I've been working on and hopefully they wont decline again. I'm still very pleased with this though. Enjoy-

* * *

26

"James.. What 'ave you been doin'?" Mrs. Lovett's voice remained oddly calm, but her rolling pin came back up at was pointed threateningly at the apothecary.

James lifted his hands in surrender. "No need to be particularly rash, Eleanor."

"Rash?" She growled. "Ya think I'm actin' rashly?!"

There was a sound that could have come from pig being stuck, drawing all eyes to the parlor's door. The beadle was pressed up against the wall, Sweeney pining him there with a razor to his throat.

Even after making the door his destination, Sweeney wasn't completely sure he would find what he was looking for. Finding the beadle attempting to sneak out of it seemed to be some kind of sign that he was heading the right direction. He had been unable to contain himself, and ignoring his injuries had lunged at the man, razor in hand.

The man had squealed, which only served to fuel the barber's delight. He held his razor to the man's thick throat, tickling it with its sharp edge.

Sweeney laughed softly at the man's frightened expression.

Mrs. Lovett stared, positive for a moment that her mind was paying tricks on her. But then Toby was suddenly in her arms, which also made Sweeney's presence real.

"Oh luv, I was so worried!" She practically crushed the boy against her bosom.

"Mum!" He protested, running towards her for reassurance had been his first instinct, and one he was happy to indulge. Yet the sudden sight of the bloodied rolling pin, though undoubtedly having been used on the horde of monsters, cruelly reminded him of the work she did. Toby was suddenly, and very irrationally, afraid of being in her embrace.

She ignored him for a moment longer, still refusing to let go. "I was so worried.."

Coming to the realization there was a group of people in the room, Sweeney decided to deal with the beadle later. Grabbing the man's face, he pulled him forward before smashing the back of his head into the wall. The plump man fell down with a soft thud, and the barber turned around with a satisfied smirk.

A very unsatisfied looking baker was standing in front of him.

"Jus' came 'ere for your revenge, didn't you?!" Mrs. Lovett screeched.

Sweeney stared, not understanding why she was suddenly yelling at him. And a little shocked that she was yelling to begin with.

"You bloody bastard!" Her trusty rolling pin was on a fast track for the side of his head.

He caught her wrist quickly, having no intention of joining the beadle on the floor (and unbeknownst to him, the judge).

"I would have been after you, if it wasn't for that stupid boy!"

"'Ow dare ya call Toby stupid!"

"How dare you assume I would let you die!" He snapped back.

Mrs. Lovett blinked in shock, unsure of how to respond. "Really?" Was all she managed.

Suddenly realizing he had something along the lines of kindness, Sweeney frowned, letting go of her immediately. "Yes." He growled, disliking his new position.

Her eyes brimmed with relieved and joyous tears. The barber looked panicked at the happy look on her face.

"Oh, Mr. T!" Mrs. Lovett sobbed, wrapping her arms around him best she could before burying her head in his chest.

He stiffly patted her back, feeling paralyzed by the pain she was sending through his battered body.

Johanna giggled, Toby frowned and Mayhew gaped. The judge and beadle remained motionless, still unconscious on the floor.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N You have any idea how friggin' difficult it is, having five characters in one room all interacting with one another? This chapter gave me a bit of trouble at the beginning, but it got easier as things carried on. The next few chapters are going to be a lot of fun...

* * *

27

James knew a barber had started a business above Eleanor's pie shop. He also heard a great deal of rumors surrounding the two. The apothecary had found himself peering through his windows and down the street because of them, even knowing his behavior was ridiculous and that he shouldn't have bothered.

The baker wouldn't be a part of a scandalous affair and then become incredibly famous all in one. It was ridiculous, and he didn't want to believe she was with someone else. Even in an unorthodox relationship.

No, especially in an unorthodox relationship.

Seeing her yell, cry and embrace a man had stunned him.

They had seemed quite familiar with one another, and his brain immediately said 'barber'. The man also seemed to be in possession of razors, or at least one, which was still clutched in his hand. In the hand which was still awkwardly patting Eleanor's back.

_His_ Eleanor..

But, she wasn't anymore. So James stared, and restrained himself from trying to kill the obviously wounded man.

How he and the boy were even still alive was a miracle.

White spots began to invade Sweeney's vision, and he felt something trickle down the side of his lip. No doubt he was bleeding again…

"Mrs. Lovett…" The barber murmured, senses suddenly overcome with the scent and taste of copper. "You're squeezing the life out of me."

"Oh." She gasped, stepping back and sniffing away the remainder of her tears. "Sorry luv, I just.. wot 'appened?"

"Weren't you listening?" He grumbled wiping away the blood from his mouth, hopefully before she noticed.

"Well…"

"We don't need to hear a story in order to figure out you've been dragged through hell." James cut in, not wanting to see Eleanor so focused on the other man.

Sweeney's eyes went to the apothecary, briefly studying the man before minutely nodding his head.

"I'll just sit for a moment." He muttered, practically crawling past Mrs. Lovett and to a chair. Sweeney set himself down with a sigh, and then hissed in pain as his muscles relaxed. His dropping eyes found the form of the judge on the floor.

Mrs. Lovett was pushing him back into his chair before he realized he had exited it.

"Is that-?!"

"Yes." The baker answered, grimacing at the blood and filth on her finger tips from simply touching Sweeney. She glanced down to affirm the appearance of grime on her dress that came about from her hug.

"It's an excellent story." Johanna piped up. "Mrs. Lovett should tell it to you." Having been intent on being invisible until things played out, the girl had no idea how unnoticed she really had gone.

Sweeney stiffened at the sound of her voice, and his eyes widened.

"Yes," Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Tha's her."

The barber's mouth hung open a moment as he regained regular breathing. His jaw clicked shut and his eyes narrowed. "Where the hell is Anthony?" He growled out.

"Anthony?" Johanna gasped. "You know-? You're-?" The girl leapt from her chair. "Oh Mrs. Lovett, why didn't you say?" She looked ecstatic.

"It didn't come to mind." The baker confessed, still trying to keep Sweeney relaxed. "Ya're terribly hurt luv, best jus' stay down."

"Terribly?" He grumbled. "I came all the way here, I'm fine."

Toby frowned, trying to understand what was going on. Mr. Todd was far from fine, but that was not what weighed on the boy's mind. The man had just gone through two very strange stages, one after seeing the judge (he shuddered at the memory of Sweeney in the bake house) and another at hearing the young woman's voice. And he seemed quite irritated with Anthony, whom Toby had only briefly seen running up the shop stairs once. Mrs. Lovett had told him he was a friend of Mr. Todd's, which was odd in itself, but how was he connected to the girl?

Deciding the adults had had enough time to themselves, Toby stepped up to where Sweeney was seated. "Is tha' the man, sir?" He asked, eyes sneaking a glance at Mrs. Lovett before going back to the barber.

Sweeney's dark eyes bored into Toby's for a moment before he snarled out a 'yes'.

"Anthony what?" Johanna came to the wrong conclusion and became immediately worried.

"Not 'im dear, the judge." Mrs. Lovett sighed.

"What does the judge-" Mayhew started, but was immediately cut off by Sweeney.

"'E's the reason things are the way they are right now."

"No luv," Mrs. Lovett shook her head. "'E is." She pointed towards James. Before the apothecary or the barber could come up with a response she continued. "An' we are."

"We?" The barber snapped. "What did we do?"

"The pies." The baker reminded him, giving him a meaningful look.

"Wa-?" He stopped. "Oh."

"Yea." She bit her lip. "Gave me a bit of a start too."

"What?" James cut in, confused by the sudden turn.

"It's sick!" Toby cried out, stepping away from Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney. "'Ow can ya talk about it like it's normal?"

Eleanor put a hand to her mouth, eyes going wide. "Toby-"

"We went through the bake house to get away." Sweeney prompted, slightly amused by Mrs. Lovett's reaction.

"What did you do..?" Johanna whispered. She had rather liked Mrs. Lovett, and the woman had seemed ignorant of the judge's involvement in the city's current condition. How could she have caused any of it?

"Sick!" Toby spat out again. His mum didn't really seem to be bother by it. He had assumed the work disgusted her, that she was forced into it. The way she spoke to Mr. Todd about it, it really did seem like a collaborative effort. "Killin' those people an'-"

"Toby, tha' is enough!" Mrs. Lovett snapped. She was slightly appalled that her 'son' had found out this way. Especially with nothing to comfort him afterward. No doubt Sweeney had just put it out there and gone on. And him suddenly shouting out her and Mr. T's secret to he world most certainly was not a good thing. She supposed Johanna shouldn't be learning this, Sweeney probably wouldn't want that. Not to mention how Mayhew would react to it…

"No it's not!" The boy started to cry, backing up for the door. "'E may 'ave killed 'em but what you did was worse! Choppin' them up an' puttin' them in pies!"

Too preoccupied with Toby and her new tears Mrs. Lovett didn't notice Sweeney stand from his chair.

The barber was across the room and had Toby by the throat before anyone else realized he had stood. His injuries didn't seem to hinder him from lifting the child off the floor.

"If it wasn't for Mrs. Lovett and I you would still be with Pirelli boy. Would you prefer that? Is that what you want?" He snarled.

"Mr. T! Put 'em down!"

"No! We've taken care of him and I've had to save his hide several times already. If he can't appreciate what we've given him then we're getting _rid_ of him!"

Feeling numb after what the boy had shouted into the room, James hardly saw the world. Nothing seemed real, and he couldn't feel his body.

Eleanor.. assisting a murdered. _Baking_ corpses into pies..

"Oh God.. that's.." He snapped out of his reverie to see the boy getting the life crushed out of him.

James darter across the room and landed a solid punch on the barber's side. The barber collapsed onto the floor as if suddenly boneless. Toby stumbled away, grasping his throat and giving the apothecary a surprised look.

"He shouldn't have.. shit." James quickly knelt and delicately lifted the torn shirt from Sweeney's side. The massive bruise there was most definitely not caused by his punch.

Mrs. Lovett brushed away the few tears the started to fall at the sorry sight of Sweeney's unconscious form. Johanna numbly fell back into her chair.


	28. Chapter 28

28

Wherever he was, he wasn't where he last remembered. Though all he recounted was strangling the life out of Toby. How many time had he done that today? He pushed the amusing thought away, trying to recall where he was. Sweeney then remembered a great deal of pain, which was an annoying trend that day. Toby had also been the cause of his last blackout. He didn't feel like moving, and after everything that had happened he began to doubt he could if he wanted to.

After everything he went through a part of him told him to stop, and accept his injuries. That, or he was dead.

Actually, he couldn't be dead, he was moving.

Why was he moving?

Sweeney then became aware of two pairs of hands holding onto him. They were moving him. Where to and why? He could have remained on the floor until he got better. Well, as better as someone with severe injuries could on their own.

Conversation finally reached his groggy brain, and the barber decided to keep feigning unconsciousness and listen.

"I can't believe you did that James!"

"He was _trying _to kill that boy!"

"Ya didn' 'ave ta punch 'im." Mrs. Lovett grumbled.

"I don't think calmly telling him to stop would work, Eleanor."

Why did he do that? Sweeney wondered. Hearing Mrs. Lovett's first name was strange enough, but to hear it come from the man's mouth in such a familiar way… He couldn't quite place his feelings on the matter.

The baker sighed. "'Ow much farther to your bloody lab?"

"He is remarkably heavy for someone so thin."

"I didn' mean it like tha'!" She snapped.

"Why are you so mad at me? I have more of a right to be angry than you."

"'Ow dare ya bring that into this."

Sweeney was intrigued now.

"How dare _I?_" James ground out. "You, who seems so content to be a murderer's assistant!"

"Oh, I know that isn't wot's botherin' ya." A very nasty quality had entered Mrs. Lovett's voice.

"Do tell me what is." He replied, sarcasm oozing from his words.

The group stopped suddenly and Sweeney uneasily felt himself tilt towards the ground at the sound of a door opening. He was quickly pulled back up and he had to hold back a relieved breath.

"Your mad tha' wot you did disgusted me, but wot 'e does isn'." Apparently carrying the barber was taking its toll, and her breath started to come out in puffs.

"What I did wasn't sick! What you _do_ is!"

"Your acts were far from perfect! And 'ow is creating a man eating plague not sick?"

"They weren't supposed to eat people!"

Sweeney felt himself being very unceremoniously put upon a cold wooden table.

James continued his annoyed rant. "I am putting it up to what you did with those men's bodies and them being consumed by other people down to that!"

"Why the bloody hell would tha' make 'em eat each other?"

"My guess would be an obedience drug and eating human flesh simply don't mix!"

"Well, whose fault is that?"

"You can't blame me for everything Eleanor!"

"I'm not putting everything on your shoulders, jus' wot belongs there James! Tha' includes _both_ of their poisonings and this mess!"

Who? Sweeney resisted the urge to crack open one of his eyes. The conversation was far too interesting to risk them stopping and noticing him being awake.

"I accepted Albert's murder, you know I _do._ In fact, I recall you not particularly caring on the matter."

"You can't possibly-"

"I can! Part of Lucy's insanity _is_ your fault! And you know what? I can blame this plague on you too! If you hadn't been so scared you would have married me and none of this would have ever happened!"

* * *

"Are you.. alright?" Johanna asked softly.

Toby continued scowling at the floor. The girl decided to let the boy brood a while longer, and turned her attention to where the beadle and judge were on the floor. They had been quickly dragged to the side of room by Mrs. Lovett who had plastered a smile on her face and told Johanna and Toby to keep an eye on the men. She had been completely unsure of how to react around Mrs. Lovett since the barber's sudden appearance, and the revelation of her sick secrets; Toby seemed to be having a difficult time too.

"Did he…deserve it?"

Johanna looked over at Toby quickly. "Who?"

Toby pointed at the judge.

"Yes." She said quickly.

"Wot did 'e do?" The boy asked flatly.

"He's very cruel-"

"No. To Mr. Todd."

"Oh. I have no idea."

"'E hates 'im."

Johanna stared at the judge for a moment longer before deciding she didn't hate him. She certainly didn't like him, but did that constitute hate? The man would haunt her life forever, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him.

"Maybe he sentenced someone from his family to hang." The girl offered, a little wary of discussing the topic with such a young boy.

"I never thought about Mr. Todd having a family before."

"Everyone has a family."

"No. I don't."

"What do you mean? Aren't Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd-"

"They took care of me, but they aren't my family. I don't have one." He said firmly.

"I was taken away from my family when I was very little; by the judge." She stared down into her lap, where her hands were folded. "I always dreamed of escaping here and finding my own family. When I got Mrs. Lovett.. It really seemed like a blessing. It was a bit of an accident too."

"An accident?"

"I asked for.. something and got her."

Toby frowned at her, not completely understanding. "Me old master jus' left me at 'er shop. She took me in."

"So then why isn't she your mother?"

"She bakes people into _pies!_"

"Yes…that is a bit strange."

"A bit!? It's crazy! Ya know, I used to worry abou' 'er. Y'see.." a very bitter tone entered the boy's voice. "She's in love with Mr. Todd, an' 'e jus' used her. I thought 'e was jus' taking advantage of her, making her do it. But now…"

"She must just love him a lot. Love can be.. very crazy." She smiled softly at the thought of Anthony.

Toby shook his head, returning his gaze to the floor. "Their love ain't crazy. It's sick."

* * *

A/N I didn't mean for James to be such a prat, honest. I love him anyway though.. Also, the reason Toby asks Johanna about what the judge did to Sweeney is because he thinks she knows more about him. The whole 'Anthony connection' and all. Hope this chapter was fun :)


	29. Chapter 29

A/N Had to go see the new Indiana Jones, so.. late update. If you go see it, make sure you have no expectations. It'll be good after that. Not to say it was awful, just not on par with the old ones.

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29

Love was an ideal for Johanna. It was a beautiful thing in her mind, and the hopes one young sailor gave her seemed to prove love was amazing. Hearing a young boy tell her that love could be sick and disgusting confused her. So Johanna thought on all she knew about Mrs. Lovett and her apparent murderous love interest.

Mr. Todd seemed a strange type of man, beyond killing too, and she wondered, if as Toby speculated, he didn't love Mrs. Lovett back. He had to know she loved him, right?

Johanna hadn't realized it, but she hadn't spoken to Mrs. Lovett about her 'tenant' (as she put it) for too long, and she had only known Mr. Todd for a total of five minutes, which was spent yelling and accusing.

She briefly hoped the man's condition wasn't so far gone that he wouldn't recover. He had been in terrible shape.

"Toby.." The girl asked slowly. "Could you. .tell me about them?"

"About mu-Mrs. Lovett an' Mr. T?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I'm just curious. Mr. Todd was supposed to be helping Anthony, a boy I know, to help me escape. Hearing this is.. a little strange."

The boy snorted, as if to say 'you're telling me'. She stared at him a moment longer before he slowly nodded his head. "Alright."

* * *

Sweeney didn't know if the silence came from his mind suddenly blanking, or Mrs. Lovett actually not responding. She hadn't said anything, but it didn't matter much to Sweeney as he was way too confused to really hear her anyway.

Lucy being.. _insane.._ Albert, _murdered._ Mrs. Lovett getting married.. (again). It all seemed such a strange thing to be talking about, especially since the barber had never seen the man before, or even heard of him.

"'Ow could ya expect me to say 'yes' to a marriage proposal after ya poisoned my tenant's wife?"

After _he_ poisoned Lucy? Sweeney' eyes slowly came open. They were standing on either side of the table he had been placed on, and where looking so intently at one another they didn't notice his consciousness.

"I brought that bottle over, she poisoned herself and you just watched her do it!" Mayhew hissed back at her.

"Brought it over? You placed it on her nightstand for God's sake!"

"All I see is a pit you're digging yourself into Eleanor, you aren't even claiming to have moved the bottle once you knew it was there."

"I knew you brought it over, I thought it was medicine, not poison!"

"Oh yes," the sarcasm was back in his voice. "Just like you _didn't_ know what I was giving Albert?"

"I can't believe you're bringing this up _now._" Mrs. Lovett snarled.

"I'm sorry if I'm not in a hurry to wait another eleven years for some closure to this mess."

"Mess?"

Instead of dwelling on the fact he had never seen Mrs. Lovett looked so incredibly angry before, Sweeney decided to take some action. He had had quite enough of listening to the two bicker, and they were straying from the topic he wanted to hear about most. His wife.

James's mouth was just opening to retort when Sweeney's hands shot up and grabbed the front of Mrs. Lovett's dress, dragging her down so that her face was an inch from his.

"What happened to Lucy?" He snarled into her frightened face.

* * *

Toby was sketchy and unsure of what to say or where to start, so Johanna prompted him to start from the beginning. A frown of concentration appeared on his face as he thought. The tale he pieced together was an interesting one for Johanna to hear. Mr. Todd was a quiet man, kept to himself, while Mrs. Lovett bustled around her shop and chatted non-stop. Toby smiled fondly as he spoke of her, then seemed to remember she was supposed to disgust him and frowned.

Something close to a sneer appeared on Toby's face as he groused out 'she _melted_ every time he was in a room'.

Johanna tried to picture an image of Mrs. Lovett mooning after Mr. Todd. From what she saw and knew of the woman, it was a very difficult thing to conjure.

She took care of Mr. Todd, Toby, the shop, and; the boy muttered darkly, she took care of the murders.

The girl frowned, trying to understand the baker. This was surely the definite proof of her insanity, but as the boy's story continued she oddly found herself believing less and less in that theory.

"It was jus' another day 'fore everyone went crazy." Toby concluded. "Mr. Todd started actin' a bt different though."

"What do you mean?"

"More… human."

"He wasn't human before?"

"'E wasn' nothing', 'e was jus' _there_. Mum always said he did well for us, but I never thought he did anything."

Johanna smiled, waiting for Toby to realize he referred to Mrs. Lovett as 'mum' once again. She didn't know if the boy noticed, as all he did was continue scowling.

* * *

"Mr. T-" Mrs. Lovett gasped.

"Don't play games with me woman, what happened?"

"Let her go!" James snapped, finally bringing himself out of shock. How long had the barber been awake?

"What happened to Lucy?" Sweeney snarled, pulling Mrs. Lovett even closer.

Unable to maintain her balance, she landed on top of him. He immediately lost his grip as spots danced before his eyes, and he gasped desperately for air which only caused him further pain. Mrs. Lovett pushed herself up and stumbled away from the table.

"What is wrong with you?" The apothecary shouted, glaring at the man on the table.

"What is wrong with _me?_" Sweeney snapped. "What did you do to Lucy, what did you do to these people?!"

"What do you care what happened to some nit fifteen years ago?"

"My _wife_ you ignorant son of a-" He reached up for Mayhew's throat, intent on throttling him.

The man had jumped away from the table though, and had returned his attention to Mrs. Lovett.

"You said he was dead!"

"He was!" She snapped back.

"I'm right _here!_" The barber growled, extremely annoyed at not having the strength to sit up. "What did you do to her?" He demanded once more.

"Mr. T, we didn'-"

"Don't sugar coat it for him, Eleanor. The man should know what a lost cause his wife was _before_ she poisoned herself. She was draining money from your pocket more quickly than Albert was."

"You poisoned her." Sweeney admonished. "You did."

"I may have brought something over, but she did it herself!

"My wife would never do such a thing!"

"She did, just as surely as she gave her body and child to Turpin!"

Sweeney and James both wiped their heads to the side, shocked at Mrs. Lovett's outburst. The woman looked livid, and was staring directly at the barber.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N Late and short.. meep. Still, it'll be fun. This and the next chapter.. bwahaha?

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30

Sweeney blinked, finding himself once more in a state of shock for that day. Nellie's eyes bored into his, something akin to a murderous fire burning in them.

"Yes, I lied to you! Lucy is more than just _alive._"

"Alive-?"

She cut him off quickly. "She wasn't _tricked!_ She wasn't _fooled!_ That woman ran desperate to his house. She did so many things for that man." The baker snapped, taking a step towards the table. "Begged him to marry her to gain back some status, to get some money! So Turpin took Johanna and left me with that whorish wreck!"

The barber stared, finding nothing to say. Feeling unable to speak as everything she said came crashing down on him. It didn't seem possible, but he had no proof against it. He had no idea what his wife would do in such a desperate situation, but to think she would succumb to _that…_

"You lying bitch." Sweeney snarled. "You think I would believe my wife would do that to our marriage-"

"Being sent to that place was just as sure as being sent to your death." The baker took another adventurous step forward, almost looming over the barber.

James floundered. He had seen her lose her temper before, he had heard a great number of un-Godly things come from her mouth, but this was entirely different. The apothecary had never seen her beat someone down so harshly with only just words. He had never seen it happen to anyone before, and the man on the table seemed very incapable of taking it.

The two were staring vehemently at one another, and James wondered if Eleanor would be so quick to defend Sweeney right then.

* * *

Never before had anyone stood up to him like that. Especially not a woman. A harsh sounding croak came out of the judge's mouth as he opened his eyes. The dim light of the room seared his head, and he immediately felt dizzy despite lying on the ground.

She had _hit_ him. No one had done that before either.

Turpin closed his eyes, groaning, before slowly reopening them. The pain stayed, but he managed to notice that he was not alone on the floor. Bamford was situated next to him, mouth hanging open.

A shadows suddenly appeared over him and he tried to look up. A boy was standing over him, holding the seat of a wooden chair.

He opened his mouth to try and say something before the seat came crashing against his head.

"Toby!" Johanna gasped, shrinking into her chair. Noticing Mrs. Lovett hit the judge (she hadn't really been looking) was one thing, but to see the boy strike the man over the head with a chair was another. "We could have just told someone he was awake."

"They're busy." He mumbled, slowly walking back towards his chair.

The girl got a sneaking suspicion the boy had simply wanted to hit something.

* * *

"As much as we are all getting out of this," James slowly started. "I need to treat you."

"You will not come near me!" The barber spat.

"You don't 'ave a choice." Mrs. Lovett nearly hissed, putting her hands on her hips.

"I do."

"Ya don't." Standing over Sweeney, she put her hands over his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "Try an' move."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Be careful. There's some glass in there from your not so gracious exit from my shop."

"I'll be taking the cost of the window out of yer rent."

"I don't pay rent."

"Ya do now!"

James placed his fingers at the sides of his head and took a deep breath, hoping to stop a headache from occurring. "I'll just get something." He mumbled, turning away from the pair. He thought their yelling was bad sign, sort of a good one for him, but he had been able to look just past that, and he noticed what accompanied the yelling. The two hadn't taken their eyes off each other for one second, and though their words were harsh, it wasn't in their eyes.

A bad sign for him. He wandered around the room collecting supplies as their bickering continued.

"That hardly matters anyway! You don't even have a shop anymore!"

"Then ye'll be payin' fer the whole bloody buildin'!"

"I will not!"

"Will not? More like ya don't 'ave the money!"

"That just leaves you the short end of the stick!"

"Short end? Ya 'ave a debt ya can't pay. They'll be interest ta that!"

"Interest to _what_ Nellie?"

Total silence fell on the room and James nearly dropped several phials as he turned his head to stare at Sweeney.

"Wot did ya call me?" Mrs. Lovett whispered, her hands slowly coming away from Sweeney.

"Mrs. Lovett."

"Ya didn't."

"Then why are you asking?"

The apothecary felt very out of place, standing in the same room as them. If the barber was capable of moving James was sure he and Eleanor would be slowly coming together. He coughed loudly to gain their attention and then strode back over to the table. "Take this."

"I'm not taking anything." He grumbled.

"_Sweeney._" He glared at Mrs. Lovett who just put her hands back on her hips. She continued, unfazed by his look. "Jus' take it."

He begrudgingly gave a nod of acceptance. Mayhew held it over Sweeney's lips, not wanting the man to move more than he had to, which included reaching for the phial. The barber glared at him while he took the medicine. A look of worry crept onto Mrs. Lovett's face while the two men were distracted.


	31. Chapter 31

31

"What did you do to _'im?!_"

"I just gave him something-"

"James, what did you give him?" Mrs. Lovett's voice was going higher in pitch with each angry statement.

"I just wanted him to stay out for a while, so he wouldn't hurt himself further." He continue patiently.

The baker glared at him and he felt chills in his spine. "'E'd better wake up."

"Eleanor, it was just something to knock him out so I could bind up his ribs."

The woman leaned against a clear section of his work space, crossing her arms and reminding him of a teenager. She didn't look at him, and instead turned her attention to wall. "Wot are we gunna do?" She finally asked.

He stayed quiet, not understanding what situation she wanted an answer for.

"'Ow much food to we 'ave? Water?"

James finally understood, but remained silent so she could carry out her thoughts. Eleanor was an amazing woman, able to push aside nearly anything to look at the real problems. What was really going on, and what affected all of them.

"Are we gunna 'ave ta move? _Can_ we?"

"Of course we can make it to another place."

"Can Sweeney?"

The way she casually adapted to the use of the man's first name irritated him, but he pushed the feeling away. "The man seems able to manage." His voice was steely despite his attempt sot mask his emotions.

Her brief silence made him wonder if she hadn't caught his tone of voice. He rather hoped she hadn't.

"Are ya jealous?"

His squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "I think I am."

"Did ya think anythin' we 'ad was goin' ta come back?"

"I rather hoped it would, Eleanor. Our... parting from one another was less than perfect, but we didn't sever things very surely."

She snorted. "Now ya make it sweet."

"I was angry, and so were you."

"Don't try an' patch us back together."

"Why? Why Eleanor? How do you expect me to react? You were practically my fiancé! And then you threw me out and locked up your shop. How do you expect me to react to seeing you with _him_?"

"I am not _with_ 'im. An' ya know very well why I sent you away."

Even through her sternness and everything she tried to direct towards him, James heard the longing in her voice even during the barber's brief mention. His grey eyes flickered towards the barber's still form and he scowled.

"You throw me out and don't talk to me for years, but when a supposed dead man shows up at your door and starts to murder people you decide to cover it up for him?" Feeling restless, James moved towards Eleanor. "The two things, small by comparison, I had done frightened you! And yet this, _man_ doesn't?" She looked up as he neared her, though she didn't move of change her facial expression when he put his arms to either side of her, pining her between him and the wall. "I thought you loved me."

She looked worried, almost scared, and their were tears at the corner of her eyes. "I did too."

James stared at her, hurt and longing on his face, unknowingly mirroring the look the baker normally gave Sweeney every day. He slowly leaned closer to her.

* * *

At first it was the exhaustion, simply dragging him back to that blissful state of unaware. But like before, he fought against it, only this time he couldn't win. He felt like panicking as unconsciousness seemed to force itself on him. Sweeney wanted to open his eyes, speak, move, _anything_ but lie still and sleep. What had that apothecary given him? He needed rest, yet the forcefulness of the drug made him uneasy. Plus there was strong suspicion in the back of his mind about the man and everything he had to do with Mrs. Lovett.

Surely, in all her endless conversation, something about him must have come up?

He stopped himself from thinking 'she wouldn't hide anything from me'. She had lied about Lucy, and even without the aid of whatever drug was in his system Sweeney was sure he would have been unable to define his emotions on the matter. His emotions had been strange that entire day, and looking back on the past with a new perspective was not something a man like him could do. Things weren't supposed to come along and change his life. That couldn't happen, he was an unchangeable force, nearly a machine over a human being. But Mrs. Lovett had done it.

Nellie had gotten under his skin so deep that, on occasion, she forced him to think about things differently. To think about new possibilities. Sweeney Todd did not want to think about those types of things.

The barber fought a moment longer against drugs, exhaustion and weakness before letting himself drift off fully.

He didn't even want to touch on the fact Nellie was coming to mind more than Lucy.

* * *

Since he knocked out the judge, Johanna had refrained from starting anymore conversation with Toby. The child frightened her slightly, and she wondered what he would think if he knew he reminded her of the barber. He most definitely wouldn't take to it kindly.

Tobias tried to relax his muscles and stop thinking. His mind was full of so many possibilities and what ifs all going at high speed that he felt his head was going to explode. He needed a break from his thoughts, _wanted_ a break. The boy turned his attention hesitantly to the blonde girl, who was sitting rather nervously in her chair. A part of him realized she was probably nervous because of him, making him feel guilty.

"Do ya.. do ya want to talk at me about anythin'?" He asked quietly.

"Like what?"

"I don' know. Tha' boy ya like?"

She blushed slightly, realizing that 'a boy I know' had translated easy enough for the lad. "Anthony?"

Toby nodded.

* * *

A/N Heh... Don't ch'y'all just love James? And Toby's adorable awkwardness?


	32. Chapter 32

32

It was a familiar feeling, and one that did not particularly bother Nellie. But the butterflies and hammering heart were absent; if they had ever been present. She pulled back from James's kiss and looked down.

She took a breath to steady herself. "J-" The baker paused, collecting herself. "Mayhew."

The apothecary had pulled back from her, and she was determined not to look at him.

"Don't."

The man practically stumbled away from her, heading towards his side of the room. "That's how everything is going to end? 'Mayhew. _Don't.'_?"

"I jus' can't. An'… I don't want to go back ta that."

"You… you love him, don't you?"

She looked up, surprised to see the question on his face, and nothing else. Not angry, or sad, just looking for an answer. All Nellie managed was a nod. He turned away form her so suddenly she was unsure if he had really moved. The silence that filled the room scared her, just as much as the unknown of what James could be thinking at that moment.

"I…I'm going ta go check up on Johanna an' Toby…"

"I need to make a salve for his wounds anyway."

The unnatural calm in Mayhew's voice made Mrs. Lovett dash out the door with only a parting glance to Sweeney's form.

* * *

"And then he came! Oh, he said he wanted to help me escape and-" Johanna's breathless retelling stopped short when the parlor door suddenly opened. She and Toby stared at Mrs. Lovett, who had pressed her back against he door the moment she was inside. She was taking slow breaths to calm herself, making the young pair suspicious of what had caused her distress.

"Ma'm?" Johanna asked tentatively.

Her eyes snapped to the girl and she stared a moment before seeming to realize how strange she appeared. She coughed lightly and stepped away from the door. "Sorry luv."

"Is Mr. Todd going to be alright?"

"I 'ope so. E's asleep now."

Toby turned away from the baker, and instead focused his attention to the unconscious men on the floor.

"No trouble from them, then?" Mrs. Lovett asked, taking notice of them when Toby looked away.

"The judge.. woke up." The girl spoke hesitantly. "But, uh… Toby knocked him back out."

"'Ow?"

"He hit him with the chair." Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper.

"Is 'e even still alive?!" Mrs. Lovett asked, striding over to the man's body to check for a pulse. Mr. Todd would be more than angry if his revenge was taken from him. The baker highly doubted anything would be able to compensate for the murder of the judge. She kneeled down slowly and placed her fingers to his neck.

"Well?"

Mrs. Lovett looked up in surprise at hearing Toby's voice. Her heart sank slightly when she realize he wasn't looking at her. "Thankfully, luv, yes." The baker stood back up.

"Thankfully?" Johanna gawped.

"Mr. T-"

"'E wants 'im dead." Toby overrode Mrs. Lovett. "We was in the bake house… Looked right like a demon, an' all 'e said was 'judge'."

Granted, Sweeney tended to get carried away when the judge was involved, but Mrs. Lovett doubted the man could strictly look like a demon. Then again, she recalled the brief look of sick joy on his face when he smashed the beadle's head to the wall. The judge would have probably received much worse, with a much more delighted look to go with it.

"Why does he want him dead?" Toby had informed Johanna that Mr. Todd hated the judge, but what would drive a man to want to see someone dead? And what could have caused it, for that man to put himself in danger to achieve the other's death? He had been in a right state when he appeared in the parlor, but he had leapt up at the sight of the judge, suddenly full of energy. It seemed rather unnatural, now that Johanna thought back on it.

The children fixed their eyes on Mrs. Lovett, who was fidgeting and doing her best to ignore them.


	33. Chapter 33

33

'Tell them' was hurriedly followed by 'don't tell them' in Mrs. Lovett's mind. She wearily plopped herself down into a chair as Toby and Johanna kept staring at her. The order of her thoughts made things even more difficult. A great part of the woman wanted everything off of her chest, but another part warned her the story wasn't strictly hers to tell; though the fact Johanna was in fact Sweeney's daughter did give her a right to hear about it. Though Mrs. Lovett had, not too long ago, been attempting to hide the full story from the girl.

Would Sweeney be angry if she told his daughter? Or would he be glad it wasn't him saying it?

"Mrs. Lovett." The sharpness in Toby's voice, the cold indifference in his tone, dragged Mrs. Lovett fully into the harshness of her reality.

She grasped her skirts tightly, knuckles turning white as she took a deep breath. "Johanna.. Ya remember what I told ya about Benjamin Barker?"

The girl nodded, trying to understand what Sweeney Todd had to do with her father. Toby was not so patient.

"Wot's this ta do with Mr. Todd?"

"Hush." Mrs. Lovett snapped, though in a strangely gentle tone. "Benjamin Barker.. Johanna's real father.." She added that for Toby's benefit. _The less I 'ave ta repeat the better._ "_Is_ Mr. Todd."

* * *

"Awake already?"

The glum, rather unenergetic question confused Sweeney. He squinted his eyes and examined the man leaning over him, trying to understand where the bastard murderer of his wife was. The apothecary grimaced slightly and turned away from the barber.

"Generally people are out for a great deal longer."

"You drugged me."

"You took it."

"Was that your excuse with Lucy?" He spat, part of him simply hoping to rekindle the flame the man had previously carried in his words.

"If the comparison of this to what your wife did finally lets you understand she did it herself, _yes._" The sudden violence in the man's words made a tiny smile curl onto Sweeney's face.

Whatever made the apothecary angry was probably also what made him sad. The barber's mind didn't take too long to form a conclusion. "Where's Mrs. Lovett?"

"Went to check on the others." James waved his hand vaguely to the door, still keeping his back to the barber.

Sweeney wasn't sure what it was, but something definitely hurt when he realized the baker wasn't watching over him as he slept. He warily lifted a hand touched a bandage on his chest. Who had done that? A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, and his eyes darted up to the apothecary's.

"Don't play with your bandages.'

"I wasn't playing." Sweeney growled, yanking his hand away. He felt the movement jar his side but ignored the pain.

"Regardless, you should be sleeping anyway."

"Why?" The barber challenged, annoyed at being ordered around.

"You'll heal faster. And all of your moving around will probably rub off some of the ointment I just got on you."

Sweeney attempted to raise his head but was pushed back down by three cool fingers on his forehead.

"If you aren't going back to sleep, at least try not to move around."

The barber narrowed his eyes, feeling his blood boil.

"Eleanor will probably kill me if she sees you moving around." James grumbled, once again turning away.

To his bitter disappointed Sweeney felt his rage slip away. "What did she say?"

"When?"

"I was asleep."

"You have no business in our affairs."

"When it involves my wife, it most certainly does!"

The man whirled around, angry once more. "Not everything Eleanor and I did revolved around that nit! And not everything she talks about has to do with _you!_ The sooner you realize you aren't in charge of the world, the better."

* * *

The possibility of Mr. Todd having a family had been a strange thing to entertain, but being told the young blonde sitting next to him was _in fact_ that man's daughter did not fully process with Toby's brain.

"They don' even look the same!" Was all the boy could say.

Johanna had gone stone silent.

"A lot 'as 'appened ta Mr. Todd." Mrs. Lovett continued. "'E's changed since.. really bein' 'er father."

"What.. what did he do?" The girl whispered. What had changed her father from the sweet man Mrs. Lovett had told her about, to the enigmatic murderous one she had just seen?

"Nuthin'."

"Wot do ya mean wot de 'e do?" Toby groused, he disliked being in the middle of a conversation where he didn't know everything.

"How could he have done nothing Mrs. Lovett?" Johanna asked.

"The judge was after your mother." The baker sniffed. "Shipped 'im off. 'E was gone fifteen years 'fore 'e made it back. So don' neither of you judge 'im for wot 'e is now!"

The boy fidgeted nervously. Mr. Todd being a convict was not a strange thought, but a faultless Mr. Todd being sent away brought a new perspective. Something was definitely off about the man, but Toby had never even thought of him as any other way. Having always assumed the barber had been 'bad' suddenly made him feel guilty.

"I'm not going to judge him." Johanna managed to smile at the baker. Mrs. Lovett really was in love with Mr. Todd. Her father. It was such a strange thought, and one she would have to slowly get accustomed to. "But… what happened to my mother?"

That was something Mrs. Lovett wasn't going to reveal. It had just barely come out to Mr. Todd, and she doubted the message had sunk in. Telling a girl that her father was murderer was one thing, but then going around and informing her her mother was an insane beggar on the streets seemed a low blow. And, as selfish as it sounded, Mrs. Lovett was rather hoping Johanna could view her as a mother instead.

"She's gone."

Johanna recognized the tone in the baker's voice, she had used it before when she withheld information and intended to keep it. But she had broken down and told her all the previous times she attempted to conceal something. All she needed was to wait, the truth was bound to come out eventually.

The parlor door creaked open, and the room's attention went to who opened it.

James looked coldly at the room's occupants. "Eleanor, may I speak with you a moment?"

* * *

A/N Something else was going to come up in this chapter- than I went nah, I'll leave the new plot momentum to the next chapter. :) I hope Johanna and Toby don't seem too calm about the whole 'Sweeney Todd is actually someone else' thing.. but the message hasn't quite sunk in, I believe. (should I know what my characters are thinking...?) OH! Almost forgot to mention.. PASSED 200 REVIEWS THE LAST CHAPTER! WOOO! -throws party-


	34. Chapter 34

A/N I'm a little irritated James turned out the way he did in this chapter.. but he got his message across, so I'm not going to change it xD

* * *

34

Eleanor crossed her arms and picked a point above James's shoulder to look at. "Wot is it?" She asked.

"He's woken up-"

"He's woken up? Wot are you doin' out 'ere then?" She hissed.

"Look, that isn't why-"

She was already walking down the hallway towards his lab.

"-I wanted to talk to you." He finished to the empty wall. Turning on his heel he quickly headed after her. "Eleanor, something came to mind-"

"Wot came to mind?" She snapped, stopping suddenly and turning sharply on her heel. If simply telling him wasn't enough, Mrs. Lovett felt it would be very justified if she hurt him to get her message across. After all, it's over meant its over.

James nearly collided with her, stopping short himself. "About the cure."

Eleanor stared at him, perplexed. "The cure-"

"Yes, for my.. Er compound."

"Oh my God! You did turn 'im, didn' you?!"

Before she could run down the hall again James grabbed her arm. "No Eleanor, I didn't. I wouldn't."

She stared at him accusingly, but didn't struggle against his grip.

"I was just thinking about what you said earlier, and I realized it would be best if tried my cure."

"Tried?"

"Well, I never really got a chance to test it."

"Ya never tested it!? Ya created a horde of monsters an' ya never cared to figure out if ya could reverse it?!"

"I didn't care then, alright!" He suddenly snapped. "I was trying to do something quickly! And with what I told the judge they could do I was put under even more pressure. All I wanted was something for you to-" James stopped short.

Mrs. Lovett's eyes went wide. "Ya did this… because of me?" She whispered.

He let go of her arm and took a step back. "Well-"

"Why the bloody 'ell would I want a horde of monsters!?"

James almost took another step back at her explosion. "This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about, so can we drop it for now?"

"Drop it?! Drop it-"

"I need you to spread the cure." He cut in.

Mrs. Lovett's anger was zapped out from shock. "Wot?"

* * *

Toby and Johanna pointedly did not look at one another. Not only were their own minds racing with what they had just learned, but the raised voices in the hallway put them further on edge. Toby had absolutely no idea who the man was, but Mrs. Lovett apparently knew him enough to yell at him without feeling embarrassed.

His mind cared little for the mystery man though, and his eyes flickered over to Johanna. She was staring at a painting on the wall. Mr. Todd had had a wife, and he had a daughter. A daughter whom he was sitting next to and looking every bit as shocked at the news as he.

No wonder Mrs. Lovett had always been defending him, Toby realized. The man had been through a lot. But did that give him the right to lash out? Especially at the one person who was helping him? No, it didn't, but it certainly gave him an excuse to be angry in the first place. Which completely threw off the boy's reasoning for being able to dislike him for being so angry. Mr. Todd's rather tragic past almost annoyed Toby, simply because it complicated things.

Johanna was having a rather difficult time thinking of anything. Her father was alive. She had seen him.

The girl suddenly found it very funny that Anthony, the sailor she believed herself to be in love with, had saved him. She suddenly wondered if the only reason Mr. Todd was helping him was because she was his daughter. It made sense, but a part of her hoped that even if she was just some girl her father would have been willing to help.

It gave her hope that the good man Mrs. Lovett told her about was still alive. For Johanna did not want Sweeney Todd to give her away when she was married (it was all set out in her mind that after the mess was cleared up she was going to marry Anthony), she wanted Benjamin Barker. Though the thought briefly made her feel guilty, for she wasn't even giving Sweeney a chance to be her father.

Johanna bit her lip. Did she want him to be?

* * *

"Ya want me to walk out onto those streets and try spreadin' a cure tha' might not work?" _Wot's this?_ Mrs. Lovett thought in shock. _I don' want 'im so 'e tries ta kill me?_

"They go utterly brain dead." James said defensively.

"They do not! The only lot I saw like that were the ones who took me 'ere!"

The apothecary frowned. "I guess that only happened to the ones given direction…" He shook his head. "You'll be fine."

"I'll be _fine?_"

"They wont attack you."

"Wot do ya mean? 'Course they will! They 'ave!"

"Well they might, but once they get close enough to smell you-"

"_Smell me!?_"

"Well, I didn't want you hurt."

"Didn't wan'…" Mrs. Lovett blinked several times, dumbfounded by the idiot in front of her. "If ya can do tha'…" She suddenly became very much aware that he could. When fighting against the monsters to reach Sweeney, they had clambered towards her, but never actually bit her. "Why don' you do it? Surely ya made 'em incapable of 'urtin' you?"

He simply stared at her, confirming everything.

"James, yer an idiot."

"You used to find that charming." He muttered.

Mrs. Lovett narrowed her eyes. "Don't bring tha' up."


	35. Chapter 35

35

When James left the room, Sweeney was tempted to scream all manner of nasty things after the man. Instead, it came to him he was, in fact, very tired. And thirsty, which irritated him, and briefly made him want to scream again. Instead of sleeping, the barber allowed all of his anger to build up and keep him awake. How dare the man accuse him of being so self-centered… how dare he continue to insult his wife in such a manner?

Glaring at the ceiling, he hardly noticed the approaching voices. Oh, he had gone off and run to Eleanor, had he? What was she going to do, coax him into drinking more _medicine?_ He turned his head towards the door, a fixed glare on his face, just in time to see her walk through it.

A very annoyed expression was on her face, but the moment her eyes went to him she seemed to relax and smile.

"Thank God 'e didn't kill you!"

That wasn't what Sweeney was expecting, which caused his previous expression to fall to one of surpise. As Nellie moved towards him he craned to look around her, catching sight of the apothecary loitering at his own door.

James sighed. "I told you I didn't."

"'Ow can you expect me to believe you? After everythin', after what you jus' asked me to do."

Sweeney's eyes snapped away from the apothecary and landed on the baker's in shock as she placed a hand softly to his cheek.

"After _everything,_" James stressed. "How could you think I would want you dead?"

Instead of glaring at the two other people in the room, as part of his mind was trying to get him to do, the barber found himself staring at Nellie's face. She was smiling, but he brushed that fact aside. She had smiled at him countless times before. He just never took the time to really notice then…

The baker let out an exaggerated sigh, smile fading. "Ya know very well why I'm assumin'."

"Are you still going to do it?"

"Do what?" Sweeney demanded, just realizing they were talking about something he didn't know. He mentally cursed Nellie's eyes for being so distracting.

"On the account of ya making me the last bloody 'ope, I'll be doin' it."

Why wasn't she answering him? "What?" Sweeney repeated, tone sharpening.

"Here, I'll get it." James headed across the room and began to dig through his things.

Mrs. Lovett attempted to follow him, but Sweeney grabber her arm. "What are you doing?" He wanted to sit up and look her in the eye levelly to demand an answer, but no matter how awake his mind was, his body was exhausted.

"She's saving us."

His eyes darted over to the apothecary, annoyed that he wasn't getting his answer from whom he was asking the question. "From what?"

"The beasties luv."

"Shouldn't he be fixing his own problems?"

"I said the same thing." The woman sighed.

"Then why isn't he? What are you doing?"

Surprised, though oddly enjoying the attention the barber was giving her, all Eleanor could do was stare at him. He was staring back at her, and didn't seem to find anything odd about his behavior. Which was odd in itself.

"I'm tryin' ta spread 'is cure luv."

"Cure? What's the point?"

"If it works, it'll stop the spread. If it doesn't, we'll be runnin' from the rest of the world fer the rest of our time."

"It'll spread that far?" An unfamiliar note of worry crept into his voice.

"I'm afraid so." James kept his gaze on the objects in his hands over looking towards the pair. He felt an uncomfortable feeling creep back into him just by being in the same room as them. Just like he didn't belong.

"Why is she doing it?" The barber growled, fixing the apothecary with a well built up glare.

"'E made me unappetizin' ta the monsters."

"What?" Sweeney turned his head back to Nellie, making him feel uneasily dizzy.

Apparently noticing his unease, she frowned and pulled her hand from his grasp. "Ya feelin' any worse, any bet'er?" She asked worriedly, placing a hand to his forehead.

"Once again, I'm fine." He swatted her hand away.

"You have at least one broken rib and split open most of your back, losing a lot of blood in the process." James protested.

"I'm alive, I'm fine." Sweeney snapped back.

Nellie bit her lip, still looking worried.

"I'm fine." The barber repeated, glad the familiar feeling of annoyance for the woman was back in place. Being so distracted by her was... distracting.

She slowly nodded her head, still looking worried. Her mouth opened slightly as if she was about to say something, and then she closed it quickly. Sweeney narrowed his eyes in suspicion, now detecting more than just worry for his health.

"Do you want to leave right now, Eleanor?" James prodded softly.

The barber gave a silent huff at the other man's insistence.

"The sooner the be'er I suppose." The woman sighed. "'Ere, give 'em ta me." She held out her hand to the apothecary.

The phials chimed softy as they collided during the exchange of hands, eyes fixed on them with a strange intensity. Before Nellie could pull away, James took hold of her hand.

"Standing water, groups of them. You can burn it, but I don't know how much good that will do."

Her lips curved into a slight smile as she pulled her hand away. "Yes James."

Sweeney watched her head for the door silently, mad at himself for feeling so strangely when James had taken her hand. The baker paused in the doorway, looking back at Sweeney and glad to find a small, yet worried frown on his face.

* * *

A/N An' I march 'em out to the front lines. The next few chapters are gunna be _fun_.. Though, and hopefully this wont happen, I may miss an update or two due to finals :( Toodles oodle noodles!


	36. Chapter 36

A/N I actually finished this yesterday, but it was so late I wanted time to go over it again the next day to make sure it wasn't all gibberish. (I was rather tired when I wrote it) Sorry for the minor delay, but- here it is.

* * *

36

She didn't even realize she had started shaking. Nellie wasn't sure if it was from fear, or some kind of demented happiness. He was concerned. Sweeney Todd was concerned, for _her._ Alone in the hallway she allowed a hiccup of tears to turn into a smile. She hadn't told him Johanna now knew she was his daughter, hadn't thought of a way to bring it up. He was bound to find out when she was gone, which gave her a variety of things to worry about on her return. And worrying about a return meant actually going. Because, after all, James wouldn't want her dead, and she would be damned if she was going to let a bunch of brain-dead idiots kill her.

Nellie's hands curled into her skirts and she stopped her march for the door. Her rolling pin was in the parlor. When Sweeney had first appeared she had dropped it.

Toby and Johanna would want to know where she was going. Or would they?

The baker's tremors continued as she stared at the door which held her boy. He was sick of her, frightened, and completely cold. Could she take an indifferent reaction from him when going out into a situation with a ridiculously high risk of never coming back? She could ignore them, grab it and then leave, but now that she found herself thinking about it, she wanted to say goodbye to him. Even if he pushed her away she wanted to hold him close one last time.

Her quivering fingers steadied when she grasped the door knob. Feeling tears prick at her eyes from the thought of never seeing Sweeney or Toby again, Nellie pushed open the door.

Utter silence greeted her, making her feel uncomfortable as she shuffled into the room.

"Mrs. Lovett?" Johanna asked softly.

Nellie ignored the girl and scanned the ground for her rolling pin. Spotting the filthy object, she forced herself to move towards it with deliberate steps.

"Wot you doin'?" Toby asked suspiciously.

The baker felt an odd prickle as she lifted the tool turned weapon. "I'm goin' out." She said simply.

"Why?" The insistence, and perhaps fear, in the boy's voice drew her attention.

"I'm tryin' to put an end to this mess, luv."

"On your own?" Johanna interjected.

"I'm not knockin' the whole lot down, I'm tryin' ta end their bein' monsters."

"How?" Toby insisted, expression becoming more and more troubled.

"I've got a bit of potion from the apothecary, an' some natural resistance to their bite." She smiled at her son, glad to see something other than a scowl on his face.

"That's ridiculous." The girl muttered from her chair.

"S'more than tha'! Ya ain't goin' mum, it's suicide!" Toby leapt up from his chair and ran towards Mrs. Lovett, wrapping his arms around her the moment he got close enough. "M'not lettin' ya go!" If the monsters could break down a demon like Mr. Todd, who's to say what they could do to his mum?

"Hush luv," she cooed softly, wrapping her arms around him in turn. "I'll be back."

"Ya's better!" He cried into her chest. "Ya best be comin' back mum, 'cause if not, I'll be goin' for ya!"

"Now luv, you'll never do somethin' so foolish. Ye'll be stayin' 'ere with Johanna, Sweeney and James." She felt little inclination to mention the two unconscious men, and the gaggle of frighten maids she knew were hidden about the house.

Toby sniffed away several more tears into her skirts before continuing. "I don' care who's 'ere. I don' want you ta go missin' mum. Not again." His voice grew in volume as his little speech plodded forward. "An' I didn' mean nuffin' earlier! I'd go after ya 'gain, no matter what you done, wif or wifout Mr. Todd."

"You can't leave Mr. Todd. Think about everythin' 'e's done. For both of us." The last of Nellie's words came out little more than a whisper.

Toby didn't know what to say to that, as Mr. Todd had risked himself several times that day in order to save him. He wanted to do everything he could to stay loyal to Mrs. Lovett, but he didn't know what to make of his loyalty when she was asking him to stay behind while she put herself in danger.

* * *

"She's something else, isn't she?"

Sweeney did not want to talk to James, but in his immobile state, he was the only company he could get. Though perhaps there was an advantage to that.

"Why did you do it?"

"What?"

"Make a plague for her. Why did you do it?"

The apothecary was silent a moment before simply stating, "she's amazing." It didn't bother her Sweeney had connected the dots between his twisted scheme and Eleanor.

A portion of the barber's mind agreed, but that was not the answer he was looking for. "And what does that mean to you?"

"What?" He sounded confused.

"What events make you think that." Sweeney clarified, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"I thought I told you that is none of your business."

"Pardon me," he spat. "For feeling a certain desire to know why you're sending her out to possibly die from a plague you created for her."

Sweeney only heard James's sigh, having turned his head to glare at the ceiling.

"For being so damned annoying Todd, you make a good argument."

Deciding not to press his luck, the barber stayed silent.

"I believe I came into her life several months after you left it, or should I say Benjamin left it?"

* * *

"An' tie 'em up with somethin'." Mrs. Lovett indicated towards the men with her rolling pin. "When they come 'round again I don't want ya bashin' 'em over the head."

Toby forced a small smile for her, while Johanna continued her disbelieving stare.

"I'll be seein' ya both." She finished forcefully, a grim look of determination set on her face.

The closing of the parlor door seemed to shut Nellie off from the world, while opening the front revealed a whole new one.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N Yes, I disappeared for a while. Sorry 'bout that. This chapter was just a total bitch to me.. more at the end- though I will share I am now in Sumer vacay' time, passing my classes and should be returning to a regular update schedule.

* * *

37

"My shop was new in the area, and I was opening up just down the street from her emporium." James ran a hand through his graying hair, an oddly wistful look on his face; Sweeney frowned at him in annoyance. "She came into my shop the day it opened. Though she never admitted to it I'm fairly confident she was trying to steal from me. Not that I cared. I was… I was just stunned to see a woman like her. Even though she only came to me to try and get medicine for her husband, I wanted to get to know her. Later on she just teased me about the dress she wore catching my male eye… Even though I told her countless times I was looking at her face."

Sweeney found himself incapable of watching the happy memories pass across the apothecary's face, and uneasily turned his head away. At the same time this man was meeting Nellie, he was suffering a most hellish fate. To look back on those events and have to think about how everyone else's lives would have just kept going was not something Sweeney had willing done before. Never before had he cared to hear about the happy memories people possessed during his absence. It was truly selfish for him to think no one could have been happy once he left, but a part of him had always believed that when Benjamin Barker died, so had the happiness in the world.

"I was more than happy to give her what she wanted…I told her as long as she came back I wouldn't charge her for her fist visit." James's lip twisted slightly, though it was indiscernible as either a frown or a smile. "I didn't see her for several weeks, so I went to her shop." A definite smile appeared on his face. "Things just sort of… picked up from there."

* * *

Nellie's stomach twisted and a shiver crawled down her spine. The dimmed light of dusk and settled over the city, and the sky was further blackened by a plume of smoke in the distance. With a jolt she realized it marked the remnants of her shop.

A figure next to her made a sound akin to a growl, making her entire body tense. Her eyes flickered nervously across the small horde of once-men that were congregated at the judge's front door. Nellie's eyes stopped at one whose mouth was hanging open. A blob of surprisingly viscous saliva made its way out of his mouth and landed on the stone stairs with a sickening _splat._

The baker felt her stomach turn in disgust.

_Even if this bloody cure works, they ain't gunna be normal,_ she thought, nose wrinkling with distaste.

"Might as well try a lamb before I go for a ram, eh?" Nellie doubted her words were understood by those around her, though they were more for her comfort than their understanding. Silences had always bothered her. Taking a phial in hand, the baker debated on how she was to get some of the substance into the motionless people.

* * *

"She always said she was going to pay me back. I don't think I would have ever thought about taking her money.. Especially after I learned what her situation was. Her husband was dieing and she was spending a considerable amount of time and money on him. Not that a wife shouldn't, but…" James fidgeted slightly, deciding to skip over his description of Albert Lovett. "I offered anything I could do to help her, and to make sure she didn't see it as charity I ate at her shop everyday and she gave me my meals for free. Her place was busy, though it was not nearly as popular as it is now. I really didn't get to see her much during my visits, though."

Sweeney forced himself to continue staring at the ceiling instead of looking at the apothecary. Mrs. Lovett's business had been incredibly run down when he had returned, and though he doubted it had been that way during his entire absence, he did have to wonder how she lost her costumers. Perhaps the prices had simply gotten to high for a limited amount of custom she was receiving? The barber pushed the annoying thoughts away and told himself to focus on James's story.

"Of course because of not seeing her is how I learned about Lucy."

The barber tensed and he could feel himself stop breathing, though he oddly felt detached from his body.

"I asked about the room and a number of people were happy to tell me it was occupied by a widow."

Sweeney's teeth gnashed together. A widow? How quickly was their marriage abandoned after he had been sent away?

"She was the talk of the town, trying to gain favor with judge Turpin." The barber's sharp intake of breath prompted James to inch away from the table. "I asked Eleanor about it on one of her visits to my shop. She sort of…cracked, when I asked."

The slight confusion in the apothecary's voice drew Sweeney out of his red clouded vision. Mrs. Lovett, _cracking?_ Apparently James even thought it unreal, though he had experienced it.

"She was always more open with me away from her shop, but I had never seen her like that before. Devastated….I suppose enough pressure puts a breaking point on anybody."

* * *

Nellie held her hand away from her body, flicking her wrist violently as she attempted to dislodge saliva from her finger tips. She was most certainly not doing _that_ again. Feeling bile rise in her throat she hurriedly turned away from the creature she had been standing in front of. The effects of the cure did not appear to be immediate, if there were any at all, and since she did not want to lose what was left of the light Nellie decided to strike out.

She could die trying to spread the cure, but without it her likelihood of perishing increased. "Men an' their bloody schemes," she muttered to herself.

The baker clutched her rolling pin to her chest as she headed down the street. The creatures that still moved on their own accord had congregated into small groups of three or four and several she caught sight of were holding various limbs. If she didn't, _hadn't_ (there was no pie shop now, was there?) spent most of her time chopping up human corpses the scene would have definitely been more gruesome.

"The moment a man stops underestimatin' ya is the moment 'e gives ya the worst job." She told the street.

The low rumble of growling Londoner's seemed to agree with her.

* * *

"Everything just sort of spilled out of her, like she was confessing to something. First it was 'he was taken away' and then it was, 'a long time ago there was a tenant'. I didn't want her to stop talking so I just didn't say anything. Eventually she calmed down enough to explain the scraps of information she gave me."

The barber did not particularly like the clarity (it all sounded fairly clear to him) in which James told his memories. Sweeney wondered if his annoyance came from the fact he had locked away most of his memories; but a little voice in the back of his head provided a completely different answer.

"Benjamin Barker," James began carefully, watching Sweeney. "Had moved into the room above her shop with his wife. Charming couple, she told me. But their heads were in the clouds. Eleanor stressed the empty headedness of Lucy more than…her husband's." The apothecary was extremely confused on how to refer to Benjamin, as he was, quite apparently, his current audience. Still not even having the man's eyes though, James decided to keep referring to them as two different people. "Eleanor told me how she became friends with them. She also confessed she had fallen head over heels for Benjamin."

Sweeney managed to calm himself enough to blink before turning to the apothecary. "What?"

* * *

A/N I put this as an ending point 'cause the chapter was so mean to me that I just really wanted to get you guys an update. James and Eleanor definitely had a greater relationship; but I felt like bringing up the fact she was in love with Benjamin. Why? 'Cause I think it would be rather funny for Sweeney to have to hear about it- I think of Benjamin as a rather oblivious character who wouldn't notice his landlady's affection, and while Sweeney certainly does, I don't think he really ever listened enough to realize that (like in the song lyrics xD) she _always_ had a fondness for him. More to come soon- promise.


	38. Chapter 38

A/N Grr.. I'm mad at this chapter too. It took a twist a didn't intend and isn't as long as I had hoped. Also, I have come down with a severe case of SLS (Summer lazy syndrome) and will probably update once weekly. Meant to bring this up last chapter, but RR Lyrae drew some fanart for this story- I'm not sure if the link is still up on her (I don't mean to offend you if you're a man) profile- but it's an awesome little piece that features Sweeney, Toby and some zombies. Big public THANKS luv :)

* * *

38

James stared at Sweeney, trying to exactly understand what was being asked. The barber stared straight back at him, not even blinking.

"You….didn't notice?" He finally asked.

Sweeney turned his head away once more, looking irritated.

"Someone was in love with you, and you didn't notice?"

"I had a wife! A daughter!"

The volume and anger in the other man's voice took James by surprise, and he found himself backing up.

"Why would I care to look at other women?"

James held back a scoff. "She said you were comfortable friends, you didn't see anything then? Were you so oblivious?"

"I don't need to answer any of this." Sweeney ground out.

"Then why am I even talking to you?"

Sweeney fell into silence, debating on whether or not he really wanted to hear the rest of what James had to say. Yes, he did, but was it worth divulging the full extent of his ignorance as Benjamin? He drew a steady breath, hoping to clear away his anger and draw on his old memories. "I suppose we were close. I considered us friends; we were both married, we were both happy! At least," he scowled at the ceiling once more. "I thought she was." His words were more evasive then explanatory, though it seemed to present the same message. No- he had absolutely no idea.

"She wasn't unhappy," James defended Eleanor quickly. "Not until you were taken, anyway." He took a cautious step back towards the barber, trying to clear his uneasiness. The apothecary did not want to admit he was afraid of the barber. "Eleanor told me about how she had to hide everything, couldn't let her emotions show. Lucy had broken down completely, leaving Johanna's care to her. Her husband was diseased and didn't care much about the tenant problems. For months she took care of a hysterical woman, a baby, her gluttonous husband and a shop! She told me she hadn't cried since the night you were taken away."

A strange feeling worked its way up from Sweeney's gut, and he fought against everything to choke it back down. After all, there was no cause for him to feel guilty. He had done absolutely nothing wrong, in such a case he should have been pitied too. But of course, he was no longer that man to be pitied. His throat burned and ached, but the barber refused to succumb to the emotion that had built up inside him.

"After she told me everything she tried to leave." James was tempted to omit this part of his beginnings with Eleanor, but figured presenting Sweeney with everything might actually jar the man from his ridiculous façade. Eleanor was in love with the barber, she had admitted it, so the sooner Sweeney was forced to accept his own feelings the better. There was significantly more to them than landlady and tenant if she was willing to cover up his crimes. "I'm still not sure why I did it. I just kissed her like it was the most normal thing to do. Of course afterwards I was utterly afraid she would think I was taking advantage of her, and tried to do everything so she understood I didn't mean to. Not that it mattered…it become clear to me she definitely didn't think I was. Albert's medicine was switched the next week and he died shortly after." A partial laugh escaped his lips. "Half of me was afraid she would find out I killed him, the other half said she already knew."

How could someone not care if their spouse died? At that moment Sweeney could have almost laughed. His ridiculous Barker qualities were seeping through. It was quite possible for someone not to care when their spouse died, not everyone was married because of love. He had never before noticed anything unpleasant between Albert and Nellie, but he had never really noticed anything to begin with.

A partial snarl appeared on his face as his eyes began to sting. _She was in love with you. _A little voice in his head taunted. _You didn't see it, you didn't notice. And you still don't care._

"We become closer and much more open with one another afterwards… of course the public was one to notice too. Not that they didn't already think I was shagging her and stealing all of her money." An amused smile flickered onto his face and James found himself almost forgetting Sweeney was in the room. "They were rather far off, but rumors do tend to get twisted around quite a bit." His happiness began to fade slightly when the rumors he had been living with for the past months came to mind. Ever since Eleanor's business boomed anyone who came into his shop was muttering 'something between them two, mark my words' 'sneaky fellow- seems normal for her to be with him'. James recalled nearly throwing a pair of old crones from his shop for calling Eleanor a whore.

"Is that the end of your sad little tale?'

It took the apothecary a minute to realize the voice was Sweeney's. He cautiously peered at the man's face, almost afraid of finding what he thought he heard.

Sweeney's jaw was clenched tightly shut as he attempted to fight off the few tears escaping him. Oblivious to the stunned man next to him, all the barber heard was the chant in the back of his head.

_I care, I do… I actually care._


	39. Chapter 39

A/N Two weeks later and I finally update.. I am such a lazy bum. Feel free to poke me with sharp sticks and words in your review... though seeing as I'm going away for a week I might not be able to read them. Well, everyone needs something to look forward too. 'Fraid this is another one of this filler-type chapters... though hopefully it leaves you wondering.

* * *

39

Feeling desperate to distract herself from the gloomy atmosphere in the parlor, Johanna was almost thrilled when she caught sight of something silver on the floor. Toby didn't even notice when she stood to fetch it. His eyes remained fixed on the judge and the beadle, as if glaring at them would make Mrs. Lovett come back. The two men had been tied up with only a slight groan on their part, and the boy had become a sentinel just a moment after securing the last knot.

Johanna twirled the silver in her hands, for a moment forgetting the glum child. It was a razor, beautiful crafted and as the shine and color told her, silver.

It was that barber's… her father's.

She didn't recall him dropping it, but she didn't really remember him having it in the first place. Biting her lip, she decided it was time to face the music. After all, talking with her long-lost father, who appeared to be dead and reborn as someone else, was probably better than struggling through another conversation with Toby.

"I'm… going to see how they're doing."

He nodded his head slightly as she slipped out of the room, not even registering her words.

* * *

Despite his limited acquaintance with the man, James had high doubts he cried regularly. In fact, there was something slightly unnatural about seeing tears streaking down his cheeks. Though that may have been because of the snarl on his face. The apothecary found he could only stare. Had he done this? Had he made the man cry? At the very least what he said had to have been the cause.

"You had no idea, did you?" The words were out of James's mouth before he registered that he was the one speaking.

Sweeney didn't reply, and more tears pooled in his eyes.

Starting to feel a little unnerved James was glad of the sudden knock on his door. Not caring to think on who would even bother with knocking, he practically ran towards it in his haste to get the crying barber out of his line of sight.

"Johanna?" He gawped, she looked back at him with a great deal less surprise on her face.

"Yes sir." She muttered.

They stared at each other a moment longer before James realized he was blocking the door and stepped aside. After doing so he came to the conclusion it was in fact a very stupid idea to let her in the room, Sweeney would most definitely be difficult to handle if he saw her.

"Johanna, could you-"

But it was too late, she was already next to the table and staring down at the barber. James froze, waiting for some type of explosion on the man's part. Instead, silence filled the room, fueling the apothecary's uneasy mood.

Johanna had something clutched in her hand, and as she began to raise it up, James noticed it was a razor. For some unexplainable reason he thought Johanna was about to kill her father, but instead she laid it next to his head.

"You dropped this." Her voice was soft, but the silence in the room made stand out.

"Yes," Sweeney answered, voice sounding hoarse. "I see I did."

The girl shifted uncomfortably for a moment before continuing. "Mrs. Lovett is doing quite the brave thing."

James tried to keep his jaw from falling open. Small talk. She was trying small talk with the barber. He gave a mental snort, wondering how she would actually get out of him. The fact he had replied to calmly in the first place had been a bit of surprise.

"I suppose it is." His voice was about as soft spoken as his daughter's.

"Are you worried?" Johanna queried, addressing the remnants of tears she saw. "Toby is too. He tired to make her stay."

"Sounds like something the boy would do."

She bit her lip, pausing briefly. "I don't think he likes you."

Another silence filled the room, the type which should have been filled with a laugh or a contemptible snort.

"He only puts up with me because of Mrs. Lovett." Sweeney answered curtly.

Johanna decided their was humor in the situation anyway, and a tiny smile appeared on her face. "And I suppose the same goes for you?"

The barber pulled a face, and didn't reply.

Deciding the man wasn't half bad when he wasn't trying to kill people, she continued talking. "I don't really know why Toby dislikes you so much… well, he told me why and I suppose I understand… Maybe it's just because I haven't known you that long?" Johanna looked down at her hands, no longer wanting to see his expression as she spoke. "She told me about you… Mrs. Lovett. That-"

"And?" Sweeney cut her off, voice going sharp.

The girl jumped slightly at the harsher tone in his voice. "And?" She mumbled.

"What do you make of it?" His tone held a twinge of contempt. "Are you sick to know the truth?"

Johanna frowned at the question. "You're rather harsh, aren't you?"

Well, past formalities, the child was rather blunt. But most children are in any situation. Once their conversation had picked up James had rested his back against the door and watched. He confessed to himself it was rather entertaining, though in a very cheap way,

"I guess I am." The man snapped.

"You were fine a moment ago." The child muttered. "Or is that you hate yourself so much that you want me to as well?"

* * *

The sun had fallen away and left the sky to darkness, but Eleanor was still seeing the world with the dieing light. The smoke from the fire, or fires, as it had spread, had turned everything red; making the world appear to be swathed in blood. She had found the sight unnerving, but was forced to push the feeling to the back of her mind. What she was doing required her full focus. Her shaky hands wiped soot and sweat onto her skirts before they dove back into the rumble.

A groan from the burnt wood caused a spasm in her already fluttering heart. She had to work faster.


	40. Chapter 40

40

Sweeney's mouth opened to give Johanna's inquiry a curt response of 'no' when the word died in his mouth. He didn't hate himself, did he? The barber enjoyed his work, each dead man was one les stain on the world, every death had felt like one stroke closer to Turpin and his revenge. And yet he did not want Johanna to know him. Was that because he hated what he was?

_No, _a voice countered,_ you're trying to shield her. Protector her from a monster. _His face continued to fall into one of confusion. Did a man who didn't hate himself, call himself a monster? Could he be anything but for what he did?

In the brief time Johanna had been in Mrs. Lovett's company, the woman had imprinted a strange mark on the girl. She had said when you wanted to yell, yell. There was no point in being polite, especially in such a peculiar and desperate situation. It had been a blissful feeling for Johanna, letting her tongue run free.

The look of utter confusion on the barber's face shocked her though. As the time between his response and her question began to lengthen, she had to resist the urge to look at the apothecary and ask if she had broken the already injured man. Her question had obviously struck a cord with him.

For a moment she cursed Mrs. Lovett, and then she immediately forgave her. If the man murdered people, what would he care if his daughter was blunt? A tiny shiver crept down her spine at the thought. He _murdered_ people, and Mrs. Lovett helped him. As she had originally thought with the baker, could the barber very well be insane? If her father was a murdering mad man, what did that make her?

_A question none of us have an answer too,_ James thought; face twisting into a frown with the deepening silence. He had often wondered if he hated himself for what he did, and despite years of pondering no answer had come to him.

Something broke the stillness of the room.

The sound seemed to echo from behind him, and the apothecary quickly forgot the confused father and daughter. Eyebrows coming together he cautiously opened the door, wondering if he had imagined the sound. He poked his head out into the hall, straining his ears.

"_-hwp-"_

Some one was shouting.

Adrenaline suddenly shot through him and he found himself running towards the front door without realizing he had registered the sound. The lightest rustle behind him told James that Johanna was following him.

Toby poked his head out into the hallway, quickly calling out a question, but James sprinted past. If it was Eleanor, why didn't she simply come in? Had the cure worked, was it the men on the porch, confused, and suddenly wanting in? He skidded to a halt in front of the door, wrenching it open without a second thought. The sight he saw was not a welcoming one.

"Thank God, sir! Please, I- I don't know… Johanna?" The boy's stuttering words transformed quickly into a breathless sigh of awe.

"Anthony?" The blonde asked, standing behind the apothecary.

"Introductions later, inside, now!" James found himself snapping, ushering the boy in. _It wasn't possible, how could they have gotten to her?_ A voice in his head shrieked.

Anthony stumbled slightly as he complied, the burden of an unconscious Mrs. Lovett across his arms slowing him.

Forcing himself not to immediately charge back to his lab, Mayhew poked his head quickly outside, dreading the sight of a horde of monsters finally come back to their maker. All he saw were several men strewn across the lawn, lying down in a manner that suggested their bones had vanished. Pushing the anomaly aside, he slammed the front door shut.

"Down the hall!" He ordered, voice harsh and loud.

"Yes sir." Anthony's steps were hesitant until James strode out in front of him, cursing all the while.

"Mum?" Toby's eyes were wide as Anthony and James went by. Shock froze him to the door and made it impossible for his legs to move forward and let him follow.

Johanna hurried to the boy's side, face a shade paler despite her quick run. "I'm sure he'll do everything he can Toby. She'll be fine." The words were hollow, and the boy didn't even hear them. The image of the dark blood stain on Mrs. Lovett's dress was fresh and vivid in their minds.

* * *

James threw papers and glass containers to the floor, hurriedly clearing space on one of the cluttered counters. He swore when something landed on his foot, but otherwise ignored the mess he made.

"Put her down here and then go fetch water from the kitchen."

Apparently losing the power of speech, Anthony just nodded his head and laid the baker down. A looked of momentary relief crossed his face when he was free of his burden.

"And tell Johanna to fetch me needle and thread.. I might need to stitch her up."

The order was met with another quick nod and a dash for the door.

Sweeney had been jerked form his thoughts the moment James had took off down the hall. When his daughter had followed he had become even more curious, as his mind had been eager for a change in thought topic. Despite all the protest his body mustered, the barber sat up at the sight of Mrs. Lovett. His breathing had hitched and momentarily stopped at the sight of her blood. She wasn't stirring, she wasn't moving… he couldn't even see her breathing!

Acting on impulse Sweeney forced his body to turn, dangling his legs off the side of the table. Blood began to pool in his mouth as he bit his cheeks, preventing himself from crying out in pain, as his side was doing it's best to get him to stay still. He spat blood onto the floor and forced his feet to make contact with the floor.

Preoccupied with Eleanor, James didn't notice the barber's stirring. He ripped apart the dress at the center of the bloody patch, and sucked in a breath when he realized what ever had caused the damage had torn through her corset. Pieces of the whalebone were no doubt now lodged in her side. He swore again, wondering where the water he had asked for was.

James nearly jumped out of his skin when the pale hand of the barber came into his vision. His astonishment grew as he took note of the man just standing there, as if his own body wasn't badly damaged. His reprimand of _get back on the damn table_ died in his throat when Sweeney's fingers brushed against Eleanor's hands.

In a surprisingly delicate fashion the barber lifted her hand away from what she clutched. The burnt looking box was still held close to her chest by her other hand.

Sweeney's lips parted in surprised. "She went back for my razors."

* * *

A/N Wew. A lot just happened there, didn't it? Finally put Anthony into the story... terribly wounded Mrs. Lovett.. or... brought to attention a terribly wounded Mrs. Lovett. Heh, I cannot resist severely hurting my main characters. Wonder who I'll bloody up next...


	41. Chapter 41

41

Johanna only gave herself a moment to feel guilty as she gave Toby another reassuring pat and dashed down the hall. Anthony had come, and she wanted to know how. Ever since the men had turned she had feared he had as well, or was eaten. Now that her savior appeared to her alive and well she wanted to know how. She also wanted to know what had happened to Mrs. Lovett.

If the monsters had gotten her… Well, Johanna wasn't quite sure what that meant if they did. She never had the stomach to ask Mayhew fully about his compound, and the judge had never liked her asking questions.

She caught him as he stepped out of Mayhew's lab, looking slightly dazed. He didn't seem to notice her, or know where he was going. When his confused eyes finally found her, his face lit up.

"Johanna!"

A smile bloomed on her face despite the circumstances and she forgot about her questions for a moment. "Anthony, I-"

"Where's the kitchen?" He asked rather sheepishly, seeming to ignore her words.

Her mouth hung open and confusion washed her features for a moment. "Oh… it's this way."

"He-he asked me to get water for Mrs. Lovett." Anthony quickly stuttered in apology. "He wants needle and thread as well."

Mayhew's snappish nature around the injured Mrs. Lovett had obviously struck a cord with the sailor. Johanna smiled reassuringly, "quickly then?" Just because she could, she grasped his hand and pulled him in the right direction.

* * *

Toby felt incredibly conflicted. He wanted to stay and watch over the judge and beadle, but knowing his mum was wounded and not knowing how she was being treated made him want to run after her. Johanna had rather hurriedly took off, but Toby was quite aware of the look she had given the sailor. It reminded him of the way Mrs. Lovett looked after Sweeney, so he immediately knew she was heading after Anthony.

Mrs. Lovett… tears began to well in his eyes and Toby was suddenly compelled to run down the hall and look after her. He had absolutely no idea how to treat the bloody wound he had seen on her side though, and tears of frustration tracked down his cheeks.

He had promised her that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. At that moment he severely wished he had gone with her, despite her protests. Surely he could have done something; but then he realized he had no idea what had hurt her. She had proved herself very capable of taking care of the monsters, and she had told him she was immune. But if the men hadn't done it, who or what had?

His knees gave way under him and he let himself fall to the floor, crying out his frustration and guilt.

* * *

Sweeney had loosened Mrs. Lovett's grip from the box, and the moment he had it away from her he was tempted to throw it against the wall. She had gone off and hurt herself because of him, _again._ First with trying to rescue him from outside the shop, and now this. Didn't she see the danger before she walked into it?

_Blood stupid woman!_ He cursed in his head, immediately making himself feel guilty. Finding himself in desperate need to vent his confusing emotions, Sweeney tightened his grip on the box in preparation to throw it, but he stopped himself. _She risked her life for this box._

His eyes snapped down to the burnt wood, as if the item had suddenly changed. He had murdered with these razors, and when he had come back to London they had almost seemed like old friends. Did she still believe that after everything that had happened, all he would need was the company of silver?

_Well why wouldn't she? _A little voice challenged. _You haven't been particularly nice to her. You never even thanked her for what she did!_

Sweeney wanted to throttle the voice in his head, but instead laid the box down next to her head, leaving his hands free to brush the hair from her face. She had to recover… she had to get better so he could thank her.

_That wont change anything._ The voice of his doubts taunted.

_Yes it will._ He thought firmly, _it will…_

A loud curse from Mayhew drew the barber back to reality. His dark eyes snapped over to the apothecary with a glare. He didn't notice, thoroughly focused on removing splinters from Mrs. Lovett's side. The man had proceeded to curse and shout at any given opportunity since she had been brought back wounded, yet Sweeney noticed a strange calmness underneath it. James seemed perfectly capable at what he was doing, and his hands moved assuredly and didn't shake. Yet he sounded as if he was on the verge of a breakdown. It was a strange way to deal with stress.

_Yes, but you kill people,_ the truth stated. Sweeney frowned at that. When compared to that, James had an excellent way of handling stress.

* * *

A/N BLARG! -tugs at hair- Drama and filler! And it's not even very long... I've been working at a preschool and time has been whizzing by at a much faster rate than usual, so this is what I got done. I promise much more to come, and hopefully a chapter that isn't less than a thousand words!

On a completely different note, did anyone go and see the Dark Knight? I saw it twice (go ahead, blame that for this chapter's lateness) and the Joker is incredibly awesome. I could care absolutely less about Batman, but the Joker.. -whistle-


	42. Chapter 42

A/N GAH! I have not updated in SO LONG! I am so sorry to everyone who has waited, but I'm incredibly happy that you're back and reading! Now what the hell was I doing? Well... in three weeks and four days- I watched the entire X-Files series (minus two episodes in season one but including both films!). I would have been done sooner but remarkably other things came up in my life. Though seeing as I have no plans to watch another series (I'm still twitching over all the alien conspiracies) I plan on going back to a regular schedule, or really just updating more frequently.

Thank you all so much for sticking around! ('cause if you didn't you wouldn't be reading this) Hugs and kisses for all! (Don't worry, I don't think lunacy in contagious)

* * *

42

"Anthony, please, just…" _Just tell me where you've been._ But the question made Johanna feel selfish, so she changed it to one of more pressing concerns. "Can you tell me what happened?"

The sailor was shaking slightly as he dug through the cabinets in search of a pot or a basin to hold water. A large tub of water was already in the kitchen, and though it had probably been originally intended for dishes it had been abandoned for one reason or another. Anthony froze at Johanna's question, hands wrapped tightly around a large porcelain bowl.

He kept his back to her, and his voice barely reached Johanna's ears. "I… After everything… I wanted to get help from Mr. Todd." Anthony slowly turned around, looking sheepish. "I was so worried about you Johanna, but when I got to the shop everything was burned. I dug through everything trying to find if they were inside when it happened…" He started to frown, eyes going down to the bowl in his hands. "The stairs… from the way everything else was destroyed it was strange that they were still standing. I had no idea why she was up there to begin with, I called to her, but I don't think she heard me."

Johanna felt a great deal of confusion, why would Mrs. Lovett return to her shop if it was burned down?

"I mean… Mr. Todd's shop was just as destroyed as hers."

The girl recalled her conversation with Toby, but she had no idea what could have been so important to Todd that Mrs. Lovett would willingly risk her own life for it. Especially if the shop was burned, how would she have known it would have survived? Even with that scenario in mind, Johanna still found it difficult to think of Mrs. Lovett as _that_ devoted to the man. Then again, she was an accomplice to his murders.

"She noticed me when she was coming back down- it must have been a miracle that they held on the way up. She was barely down when they collapsed." As if suddenly remembering he was supposed to helping Mrs. Lovett recover, Anthony hurried to fill the bowl with water. "I pulled the beams off of her but after she told me to come here she passed out."

Johanna felt part of herself grow cold in dread.

As if noticing her change of thought Anthony remembered the other request. "He- he asked for needle and thread too."

She barely nodded her head before she ran from the room to fetch her sewing kit.

* * *

Pulling himself up from the floor Toby hurriedly scrubbed at the tears on his face. Not knowing how long he had been crying his eyes out only made him feel more guilty. Not caring to check on the 'prisoners' Toby hurried out into the hall, determined to at least see Mrs. Lovett. His mum needed someone, and he doubted either man she had with her would do.

The increased volume of curses led the boy to the door of the lab but instead of marching inside and taking his mum's hand, he froze. The view given to him was one that he had never expected to see. The last he had seen of Mr. Todd the man had been unconscious and bleeding, much like his mum. Now the demon was standing over Mrs. Lovett, the strangest expression of concern plastered on his face. Toby felt the blood slowly drain from his face as the barber's pale finger traced a tender path down the baker's cheek. What gave that man the right after everything he had done?

Everything _he _had done…

It made the boy increasingly sick when he realized Mr. Todd's last few acts had been in protection of Mrs. Lovett. How he had been trying to find ways to escape and find her, how he wanted to chase after her. Those torturous facts only served to remind Toby of how he had hindered the barber's progress. Before his mind could even start working on how Mayhew knew at least how to stitch his mum up, he was pushed from his place at the door by Anthony. The sailor barely seemed to notice Toby, and instead looked frightened at the prospect of having to interrupt the cursing apothecary with his delivery.

Turning away from the door Toby decided to move before he got in anyone else's way.

* * *

Johanna got the strangest sense of nostalgia upon entering her room. As if the space had suddenly turned into a monument to remember the very much active and alive Mrs. Lovett. Shaking off the feeling the blonde hurried to where she kept her sewing kit. Having no idea of what Mayhew would need, she grabbed the box with both hands and headed back towards her door.

Her body froze before she could fully leave the room, and Johanna slowly turned her head to look back on the empty space. It was as if ghosts suddenly inhabited her room. A shiver crept through her body before she bolted for the stairs, determined not to let those dark thoughts brew any longer.

Mrs. Lovett was _not_ going to die.

* * *

Breaking another chair only served to vent part of Toby's turbulent emotions. Though the furniture's destruction was not for removing his feelings, it did help make the boy feel better. Picking up a leg from the chair he smashed off the last bit of frame that still stubbornly clung to it. Giving the weapon a few experimental swipes through the air, Toby gave a content nod of his head.

Though an intact chair was more useful against the monsters, a smaller piece was much more maneuverable. Now if he only had gin and a few matches… He roughly pushed the thought aside, as it only served to remind him of Mr. Todd.

Slinking back out into the hallway, Toby paused to listen- wondering if anyone heard the crash of breaking wood. When no footsteps appeared to be coming his way he sprinted down the hall towards the door. He felt he had to run, for if he walked he would surely loose his nerve, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Toby wanted to do the one thing he seemed to good for- reduce the London monster population.

He blocked out all thoughts of Mrs. Lovett as he stepped outside of the Judge's home.


	43. Chapter 43

A/N This managed to complete itself fairly quickly... but it's a little odd. I really like how it turned out though, peculiarities aside. Hit three hundred reviews last chapter- woot. Wow.. I sound so enthusiastic.

* * *

43

Time once had a great hold over Nellie's life. There were rigid schedules to be kept and beats that could not be missed. After Benjamin had been shipped off, time had become strangely less constricting, or perhaps she had simply forgotten to keep track of it. James brought her back on track for a while, but after things fell through with him time had once more become an impossible thing. When Benjamin returned to her as Sweeney Todd time had once again snapped back into a strict perspective. Even her daydreams couldn't fully pull her away from the heavy rhythm of his pacing above her. Unlike before this continued stretch of rigid time didn't bother her. Each moment was to a beat she enjoyed.

It seemed time could not overcome a plague that turned men into monsters.

Nellie's entire day had been thrown off-beat by it. Or, it felt like it had been the entire day. The early dinner crowd was where it all started. That day's dinner. It already felt like months in those few hours of fighting for her life, and her companion's. Every moment of being afraid had stretched out time, especially without the reassuring tred of the barber's footsteps near her.

Inside of Turpin's home time had stopped, and after reuniting with Sweeney it seemed to speed ahead before jerking to another halt.

Being knocked unconscious was not an entirely new experience to Mrs. Lovett, life had never truly been kind to her, but this time, when time itself was already imperceptible to her, she was more wary than before about wondering in how long she had been out.

The feeling of wakefulness was dizzying, as her last cogent memory was that one of falling. Falling, at the time, it seemed to an unyielding inevitable. Death. Her open, seeing, eyes contradicted that assumption.

Before Nellie's reality was fully in focus, her lips parted and a whisper of 'Mr. T?' slipped out. If she didn't remember the collapsed stairwell Nellie would have thought he was worse off that her, though he still could have been. He was seated right next to her head, making it difficult for her to see anything below his chest. His pale skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his parted lips drew in short raspy breaths. Despite the softness of her voice his eyes slid open and looked down into hers. For a moment he almost looked relieved, but then his eyes left hers and became inexplicably sad.

"Sweeney?" She prompted, panic seeping into her voice. Nellie suddenly remembered the barber wasn't supposed to be up, and she quickly worried that he had been moved for her sake. "Ya need to be lyin' down, I-" Her body was slow to respond to her brain's command, so her muscles hadn't even twitched when one of the barber's hand came up to forestall her.

"Calm _down._" Sweeney's lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile.

"But you shouldn't be up. 'Ere I am, taking up all the space-"

"_Nellie-_ you're on a counter, not the table."

The fact he used her first name was all that kept her still. "Than why the hell aren't ya lyin' down?"

For a moment she was positive he was going to burst into laughter. The barest trace of a smile on his face and in his eyes was all she got. "I wanted to be near you, so that when you woke up…" As if suddenly aware of what he was saying Sweeney's words died in his mouth, lips still parted to continue his sentence.

"Luv?" Nellie asked, hoping that if she didn't bring attention to his kind behavior he wouldn't stop.

"I needed to know you were going to wake up." Sweeney's eyes went down, but he didn't look at her. "Needed to know…" The second time was little more than a mumble.

Sweeney's insistence on just seeing her wake up caused panic to flare through the baker. Even though she had been conscious for some time, her body felt distant from her and the one thing she could really feel was that she was lying down. She had no idea what the extent of her injuries were.

"Sweeney, what…I-"

Her panic seemed to be affecting him for his eyes went wide with shock. Another thought struck the baker, nearly stopping her already erratic breathing.

"Where, where is every-?"

"Breath!" Sweeney commanded, almost for his own benefit as well as his. "Just breath." He brought his hands up, but an internal debate with what to do left them hanging awkwardly in the air.

Ignoring his dilemma, the baker attempted to regain control of her breathing. Her hands jerked into the air from where they had been resting on her chest, and she stared at them confused.

"Your, I-"

"I have them." Given the opportunity, Sweeney let his hands take hers. "You shouldn't have gone after them in the first place."

She ignored his last remark, still trying to get her lungs to fully expand and accept the air she needed. His hands on hers reassured Nellie more than she realized. "Anthony, he... Where.. Where is everyone?"

The silence he gave her was not at all reassuring.

"Sweeney?!"

"They're out looking." He deadpanned.

"Looking?"

Sweeney's hands tightened around hers, and his eyes begged for something she didn't understand. "For Toby." Begging her not to panic.

"Toby…?"

"He disappeared after Anthony brought you back."

* * *

James had been particularly reluctant to leave the judge's home in search of Toby. The honest part of him confessed he could care less for the boy's well being, but everything else in him screamed he needed to do it for Eleanor. How would she feel, waking up and finding the boy gone?

Another honest part of him simply wanted to see the state the city was in. Even in the poor light of a smoke covered moon it was easy to see the destruction. It made him feel proud, in a sick, twisted sort of way.

Had he really been the cause of all of _this?_

Anthony and Johanna were investigating an abandoned house, leaving James alone on the street. The smell of corpses and smoke clogged his nose, it oddly registered in his mind as the smell of victory. Ever since he stepped outside he had been overcome with the urge to tilt back his head and just laugh, but the bodies of disemboweled Londoners kept him quiet. The blood of the countless dead that stained his hands overcame his sick pride.

Lifting his hands, he slowly turned them in examination, half expecting to see the blood. It wasn't there, but some part of him desperately wanted it to be. After all, just moments ago Eleanor's blood hand been covering his hands. It stained his clothes though, just like Sweeney's. Of all people to save that day, it had been two murderers.

A soft chuckle slipped out of him then.

God, he needed to see her. He needed to know she was still alive.

"Sir?"

His head jerked in the direction of the voice, surprised Johanna had snuck up on him. Not caring to hear her news, he dropped his hands and looked away. "I'm going back."

"Why?"

Was that Eleanor's stubbornness seeping through the girl? "I need to make sure the two there are still alive."

"What about Toby?"

For having very little contact with the child she was rather insistent in finding him. "You and Anthony will do fine without me." He was two steps away when she stopped him.

"Wait! I've been thinking…" Her hesitation lasted long enough for her to draw a deep breath. "You made them go after Mrs. Lovett, but not hurt her. Can't you make them go after Toby?"

James tightened his hands into fists, feeling a strange rush of irritation. "I can try."


	44. Chapter 44

A/N I know- I'm such a fantastic updater. But I partied until school started- and then I had to deal with school. Plus when I first started work on this chapter I hated it and wanted to scrap it. One the second read through I actually rather like it.. but it's a bit of... I don't know.. sort of like the beginning of a two part-er.. though as a chapter in a story I don't think that quite makes sense. Let's just say that I need this so I can have the next chapter... Generally I'm either at a stand still or pushing the plot forward rapidly. This odd important-transition bit is strange to me...

* * *

44

It was reassuring to know they were out looking, but it was terrifying to know that Toby was out there. Eleanor has since calmed down after Sweeney told her the news, though after she realized he was holding her hands she refused to let go. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to mind, which suited her just fine. Sweeney's eyes had left her the moment her panic ceased, however, and now the baker was determined to learn what he was thinking. Frowning up at him seemed to have caught his notice though, and soon after a twitch of his lips his eyes were back on her.

"What?" His tone was a great deal more snappish than she expected, especially since his hands were comfortably encircling hers.

"I was just…" Deciding she didn't want to say _staring_ the baker quickly lied. "wonderin'."

The barber's face seemed to slowly pass into one of concern. "About what?"

"You." She offered tentatively, openly talking to him was a new privilege, and one she didn't want to lose.

Sweeney grimaced, as if she had just said something unappealing.

Deciding she didn't particularly like that, she pushed forward. "We're alone 'ere, ain't we?"

He frowned, "I suppose."

Remembering there were maids in the household, and concluding they wouldn't go out and risk themselves for an unknown child, she decided to let that answer slide. Of course, there was also the two unconscious men. "We're alone 'ere." Even knowing that bringing up the judge could very well take his attention away from her, Eleanor wanted to know. "Why aren't ya at the judge?"

His posture stiffened, and she could see his jaw clench. A rather malicious glint appeared in his eye, but his face remained passive.

Sweeney seemed to chose his words carefully when he finally decided to speak. "I have waited long enough." It also seemed he was speaking to himself. "He is completely at my mercy…"

Eleanor had found comfort in his hands, but their grip was soon becoming painful. In fact, he only loosened his grip when she let out a whimper of pain. For a moment he looked slightly guilty.

"I'll be back soon."

Before he could release her hands and push himself to his feet, the baker took him in her own iron grip.

"I'm comin'."

He didn't even try to hide the shock on his face. "What?"

"I'm comin' with you."

"Why?" Suspicion slowly crept into his features.

"I need ta see it end."

"_You _need to see it end?"

"What e's done is as much a part of my life as it is to yours."

"You're in no condition to get up," he snapped.

"Neither are you." She retorted.

Before he managed to pull himself away and stand, Sweeney stiffly nodded his head. "Fine." Once on his feet he turned slowly to help her up.

Despite her own mental determination Eleanor let out a choked gasp when she sat up. The barber's hands had been at her back and side trying to help her, and she trapped them once more in her own. "_God Sweeney!_ 'Ow the bloody 'ell are you walking around?"

"Bending will be the worst with your side stitched," he sighed. "Come on pet, I wont have you slowing me down."

Pressing her lips together she nodded her head, ready to turn so her feet could dangle off the edge of the counter. Turning was a great deal less painful, but she also had her attention focused on the feel of his hands rather than the searing twinge of her own skin.

"Ready?"

For a moment the baker felt extremely nauseous at the notion of having to stand on her own two feet. She didn't even realize her breathing had become ragged until one of Sweeney's hands was on her face, and his crisp tone demanded her to 'breath, woman!'. Her head was towards the floor but she made herself nod, gripping his biceps to reassure herself he was still there. When Eleanor finally managed to pushed herself off the edge, it seemed for a moment that she was suspended in the air, but the ground quickly took care of her fantasy of floating. Her knees buckled but Sweeney kept her up despite his own grunt of pain.

Eleanor buried her face in the crook of his neck and bit her lip until blood dripped on the barber's shoulder.

Silence prevailed until Sweeney cut it short with, "I said you weren't going to slow me down."

Keeping herself steady by clutching his arm tightly, Eleanor slowly made it to steady feet. "Sorry," she muttered, slowly relinquishing her grip to wipe the blood from her face. When her downcast eyes finally made their way back up, the baker thought they were playing tricks on her. Blood was oozing from the side of Sweeney's mouth, and though her pain blurred vision told Eleanor it was hers, she knew it wasn't.

"Love, we shouldn't be doing this." She slowly reached out to wipe the blood from his face.

"You're the one who brought it up." The barber snapped.

Even though she has just absent-mindedly wiped her own blood on her dress, Sweeney's blood on her finger tips somehow felt more real.

"Nellie?" The man prodded, a little surprised she hadn't commented on what he said.

"If we ain't lying down we might as well go for a walk." She mumbled, eyes still fixed on her bloody fingers.

"Need to make up your bloody mind," the barber growled. He turned towards the door but kept one hand on Eleanor, lest she waver again.

"I believe ya have enough resolve for the both of us, dear." The baker took a hesitant step after him, only gaining confidence when she didn't immediately tumble to the ground.

"I said make up your mind, not gain resolve." With her in tow and unlikely of falling, Sweeney set a steady pace for the parlor.

Eleanor looped her arm in his, as if they really were a proper gentleman and lady going for a walk. "Ya've been so talkative lately, luv."

As if to reprimand her, he grunted in response. The baker smiled, knowing that laughing would hurt too much.


	45. Chapter 45

A/N -shame- I am NOT abandoning this story! But a very odd list of things and some laziness prevented me from getting this done sooner. One of those things is this chapter requires a certain... mind set. Which leads me to the warning of **THERE IS TORTURE IN THIS CHAPTER**. And if my reviews kindly slap me across the face and say 'THIS BELONGS IN THE 'M' CATEGORY!' I will happily put it there. Until that time- I'll leave it up to the bold text warning here. If you wish to skip over the torture- which is fine by me- you should at least read the last section and count up nine paragraphs (above the line), and read all that is there. I don't think the torture is too graphic- but I figured you lot might want a warning. Also- any criticism you may have for this chapter is going to be very much appreciated- I want to know what you think of Mrs. Lovett's observations and I think I may have made Sweeney too playful...

* * *

45

Knowing what was at the end made the journey that much slower. Knowing what was at the end of the hallway made Sweeney all that more willing to go there, even though his muscles seemed to struggle with each step. He had done his best to keep his and Mrs. Lovett's weights balanced against one another, but ever few steps one of them was always leaning just a little farther over. Sweeney's excitement had done wonders in stifling his pain, and he wondered if she was just as eager, or just very good at putting on a brave face. Her insistence on coming had surprised him, she had never watched him kill before, though she did deal with the end product. Not that he was just going to get the Beadle's and Turpin's death over with. They were fully at his mercy, and he was going to do damn well what he wanted with them before he let them die.

A part of Sweeney wanted to question if Nellie could handle that, though no part of him said she couldn't.

His eyes drifted over her face, curious as to what she had meant when she said Turpin had affected her life as much as his. He had never really thought about the ripple affect of what had happened to him. Sweeney had never really considered the world being so connected before, and realizing someone so close to him had been significantly affected made him wonder about the smaller things. He didn't even know how many people had heard of his and Lucy's story, he had always figured his business was his own. The full extent of his naïveté began to irk him.

"Are ya ready luv?"

Sweeney blinked, suddenly seeing the door in front of him. He didn't respond to Nellie, and instead reached out to push the door open, his blood seemed to turn to fire in his veins.

The room was very much in the same condition he had last seen it in, though he really hadn't spent that much time looking. Sweeney's eyes darted around hungrily, searching for his quarry, but before he could make a full search of the room, Nellie tugged at his sleeve.

"'Elp me ta a chair, would ya?"

He gave an impatient grunt in response and practically dragged her to the nearest armchair. Sweeney was patient enough to let her slowly slide away from him and onto the chair, but he quickly and eagerly turned away from her, desperate for his prey.

After so _long…_

When his eyes found what he was looking for he was almost disappointed. The judge and the Beadle were unconscious and sprawled on the floor, their hands and feet bound together with curtain cord. Sweeney's lip curled in distaste at the sight of them, and all he did was stare for a moment. His feet took it upon themselves to get him to his targets, and his knees took much longer in lowering him to their level.

The edges of his vision blurred slightly, his chest also gave a fierce ache, demanding that it's pain be heard. A snarl fixed on his face, the barber pushed aside the painful sensations to reach out and grab the Beadle's throat. He would start with him, the judge he would savor last.

Having been knocked on the head quite a while ago, the Beadle was easily awoken when he felt the steel grip of fingers on his windpipe. His beady eyes popped open and he let out a strangled gasp as his nerves became fully aware.

"Such a strange place I find you in."

He squinted his eyes, trying to see the man who was speaking to him. Who was choking him.

"And even when I see how pathetic you are, I feel no pity for you."

His lips parted slightly as he attempted to work his jaw and tongue to make an answer. He certainly wasn't going to die without trying to talk his way out of it first.

"No last words for you Bamford. Your last act on this earth will be to scream."

The man finally came into focus in the Beadle's eyes, and he almost wished his vision had stayed blurred. It seemed Death itself was staring at him with its cold, black eyes. The man's pale flesh and gaunt appearance fueled his delirium. Even when the hand was removed from his throat he was too petrified to speak. A tiny sigh escaped him when his assailant seemed to just be content to stare at him, but the breath quickly turned to a gasp when his jaw was grabbed with icy fingers.

"And to make sure of that, my _dear_ Beadle, I will need your tongue before we proceed."

Sweeney had never been a man of many words, at least not around Eleanor. Benjamin had always had a rather cultured way of speaking which, and in the beginning, the baker had taken to comparing it against the blunt rasp of Mr. Todd. She was suddenly very glad he had never taken up Benjamin's eloquence back into his speech. As of right now, his words sounded beautiful, but the poisonous hatred now oozing through them seemed to be coaxing all of the fear out of the man being addressed. Eleanor felt a coldness creep down her spine as Sweeney calmly opened the Beadle's mouth while reaching for the razor in his pocket. Despite her own growing fears of the truly devilish side of the barber she watched without blinking as he slowly brought his razor across the other man's tongue.

Was this the revenge the man had long dreamed about, or was he acting on impulse?

The Beadle was doing well by enacting what Sweeney had planned for him, a throaty squeal was coming from the man as he watched cross-eyed as his tongue was slowly sawed away. His tear-filled eyes searched the face of his soon-to-be killer for any sign of hesitation, and a fearful moan slipped out of him when he saw none. He wanted to beg, plead and reason for his life, but when he tried to make himself speak blood and spittle simply flew from his mouth. The barber frowned at the mess being made on his already dirty bandages.

"You were just a messenger- perhaps I shouldn't carry this on too long."

Eleanor got the distinct feeling Sweeney was enjoying his one-sided banter. A part of her was glad to see him happy, another part was terrified of his bloodlust-dementia.

The barber propped the trembling man up against the wall and watched the blood run down his chin for a moment, as if lost in thought. "A prisoner tried to escape once, the warden shot him in the leg to prevent him from getting too far. The warden succeeded, though not in the way he originally hoped. Whatever the bullet had hit in his leg he bled out in under a minute."

Confusion crept onto the pain pinched face of the Beadle as he tried to understand the story.

"I'm not sure where to cut, but I'm sure I'll find that artery." Sweeney slapped the flat end of his razor against the man's cheek. "I hope that when you burn in hell the name 'Benjamin Barker' will ring in your skull for eternity," with a quick flash of silver the razor took its first bite out of Bamford's thigh.

A loud, blood-muffled scream filled the room, and the baker felt herself shiver. With every second Sweeney's wicked playfulness seemed to grow, and the twisted notion of revenge that had festered in him for so long was finally and fully making itself known. Eleanor doubted even the Devil himself could have watched the man's delight in the carnage as calmly as she did, for aside from a few quick trembles she sat still and stared.

Blood splattered against the wall, furniture and Sweeney until the sound of it striking against various surfaces seemed to drown out the man's screams. The tortured cries did not last long, as the barber quickly turned the other man's thigh into mince-meat, effectively spilling enough blood to make him pass out and cutting the artery he had been digging for.

Silence suddenly gripped the room, only broken by Sweeney's ragged breathing.

A choking sound made Eleanor and Sweeney move their focus to Turpin- who had been dragged into consciousness by the sounds of the Beadle dieing. He seemed unable to form words as his eyes took in his new bloody reality.

Sweeney's blood spattered lips cracked open into a demented smile when the judge's eyes landed on him.

"Wha… what… who…?" He seemed incapable of properly speaking, the smell and sight of the Beadle's blood assailing his nose and eyes.

At first the barber felt a sudden surge of irritation as the man spoke, and considered cutting out his tongue too, but as the Beadle's screams and been pleasing, Sweeney knew the judge's cries for mercy would be better. The demented torturer turned fully towards his second victim, silently hoping the name Benjamin Barker hadn't been heard by him, hoping to keep it as a surprise for later.

Instead of panicking as Sweeney's attention was more focused on him, Turpin lowered his head and started to cough, saliva slowly dripped from his mouth as his stomach attempted to empty itself.

"You shouldn't ruin the carpet." The barber reached out with his razor, which seemed to be bleeding of it's own accord. He placed the instrument against the judge's chin and made to slowly lift it up, the man would have to lift his chin or let himself get cut. "I assume it's expensive."

Turpin didn't follow well with the razor, and jerked his head up just after it touched his chin. "Who are you.. to..to," despite his best efforts to throw something in his tormentors face, perhaps even anger, all that surfaced was fear. "I…. I _know_ you."

Sweeney's face twisted into one of unhappiness. Was he made? If he was, the rest of what he planned for the judge would be wholly unsatisfying.

"The barber! From…from…"

An 'oh' of delight formed on the barber's face before it returned to a smirk. He slapped the side of his razor against the man's cheek like he had done with the Beadle', only this man visibly flinched. His demented happiness only increased at the sight. "You'll wish you died that day."

"My God! Why…_how long…?_"

"God?" Sweeney snarled, his previous elation easily replaced by anger. "Do you truly believe you do his work when you send men to die?" His little secret was fast on the approach of becoming known, and at the moment he considered it to be best. Would Turpin scream louder when he learned that someone from his past had finally come back to deal real justice?

"Who _are_ you?" Even on the verge of death his mind managed to work.

The razor did a quick lick across the judge's forehead, leaving behind a thin trail of blood. "I want you to remember!" Sweeney snarled, bringing the razor back to cut across the man's cheek.

As if suddenly realizing he was on the brink of life and death Turpin attempted to crawl away, but only ended up with a wall against his back. "How-how can-" Panic finally settled in, and his chest heaved while his eyes darted around the room. Blood from his forehead slowly began to drip into his eyes, causing him to blink as well.

"Remember Johanna! Her _mother!_" Sweeney's hands came out, the razor still clutched in one of them, and he wrapped his fingers around the judge's neck. Perhaps slowly strangling him would be the better route. "_Her father!_"

The madman's fingers were already bruising Turpin's neck, and the razor's bite was causing blood to flow between them, but the choking man still managed to gasp out, "Benjamin…?"

"Benjamin Barker!" Sweeney screamed in confirmation- his hate clouding his previous plans of a slow death for the man before him. Though in a quick moment he seemed to deem strangulation as the wrong option, and his hands left his adversary's neck. Instead, the hand clutching his silver friend was driven fast towards the judge's chest. Whether in his mania he had managed to calculate it or not, the barber managed to drive the blade inbetween two ribs.

Turpin seemed to choke, quick gasp escaped him, he seemed too stunned to even scream. His eyes founds Sweeney's and his look of panic and confusion lasted until his body seemed to finally realize it was done in, and his head slumped against his chest. Hand still wrapped around the razor, the barber stared.

Was that…it?

Had those fifteen years of his life just been avenged? He blinked several times, as if expecting the world to change, or something to announce the confirmation of his victory. Instead of happiness, a sort of depressed confusion settled over him. He forced himself to ignore the immediate question of 'what now?'. Shouldn't he have the time to at least enjoy his victory? Why did his triumphant moment have to be so… hollow?

"Luv?"

Sweeney jerked away from his victim in surprise, hand finally leaving behind his razor. He turned his head to look up at Mrs. Lovett. Wondering how she had managed to stand from the chair, he watched as she slowly came down to her knees to be level with him.

Had he been on the ground the entire time?

One of Eleanor's hands came up to rest against him bloodied cheek, her eyes locked steadily with his. "Are ya done?" She asked.

That was it! That was what _he_ wanted to know. Was he done with his revenge? There was blood on his hands, but that wasn't new. The judge's corpse slumped behind him though…that was new. His hands and person weren't touching his razors, his friends, his weapons. That counted for something, didn't it?

His lips parted to say something, but she stopped him from thinking by laying her thumb across them. "Are ya done?" She repeated.

Taking that as a cue, Sweeney pulled Eleanor's body closer and kissed her.

* * *

He had been a little panicked when he discovered his lab empty. Two seriously wounded people did not just _vanish,_ but a lot of things were off and peculiar that day. Still, James had quickly dashed into every room to try and find them. Finding them was not much of a victory, however.

James had seen some truly horrific and disturbing things before, but what he saw in the parlor really hit him.

Blood streaked one of the walls, had formed in small pools on the carpet, and was splashed upon several pieces of furniture. Mangled bodies of those who now painted the room was not particularly pleasant either. Yet, almost worst of all in James' mind- were the two blood stained people clinging to one another in the mess.

Instead of entering the room he fled back down the hallway.


	46. Chapter 46

A/N Surprise! I'm updating again! Something must be wrong with me.. This chapter is about half the length of the previous one- so I suppose that might have something to do with it. Also, I'm not quite sure what to feel about my torture scene not being all that gruesome- you win some you lose some I suppose. Though in this case it sorta feels like both things at once. On an odd note- I think I switch tenses a few times in this chapter but I've never been too good with that sorta thing- so if any of you are grammar nuts you'll probably yell at me.

_And _I thought I'd put it out there that this story is drawing to a close. I'm not quite sure how many chapters are going to be from here to there- but it's soon. But, first things first... -hides herself inside of a metal box- You'll see why soon enough.

* * *

46

Eleanor had never believed blood tasted sweet. Having bitten the inside of her mouth before and taken hits across the face she had a fair number of times tasting it. On days when she butchered she often got a taste, though she tried her best to avoid sampling a stranger's blood. Needless of how it happened, all of the occasions had left her a bitter taste in her mouth. With Sweeney it was as if something completely different had come in contact with her lips. In her opinion, it was almost like honey, though the last time she had tasted the sweet was many years ago.

Her demon barber was sweet. If Eleanor hadn't been sobbing into his chest, she would have laughed.

A kiss hadn't been exactly what she had been expecting, though she welcomed it readily. It was amazing the both of them were still standing (or really kneeling) so when Sweeney had maned to hold her so tightly she was amazed at his strength. The taste of him had been very distracting, but it hadn't taken the baker very long to know something was wrong. Well, a number of things were, but something had finally caused debilitating damage.

The mingled taste of the barber and his victims was quickly imbalanced when his blood flowed strongly out of his parted lips.

Eleanor had become oddly calm when he pulled away from her to try and cough away the blood. She had just held him tightly with the strength he had possessed moments ago as he became nearly slack in her arms.

A traitorous little voice in the back of her mind whispered, _he's dieing._

Sweeney was never one to let something slow him down, as he had proven again and again through his struggle to survive all that day and the past fifteen years of his life. Feeling tired, his pain becoming a dull ache that accompanied darkening vision- he felt angry. After everything he had done that day, _murdering _two people was going to be what sent him over the edge? That coupled with the message he had in mind for the woman holding him fueled his sour mood- though he had little strength to act on it. The damaged parts of him that he had ignored and bullied into functioning were calling it quits- and the fact his body was abandoning him was what enraged Sweeney the most.

He was on his back and he wasn't quite sure how he got there. Nellie had probably lowered him down, though at the moment she was clinging to his side, her head tucked against his neck and shoulder. Of everything, all he seemed to feel were her tears on his skin. He opened his mouth to try and speak, but all that did was send more blood into his lungs.

How the hell was he going to tell her something if he couldn't speak?

Pulling together what was left of his strength Sweeney barely managed to move his arms around his little baker. Her tears seemed to stop for a moment as he slowly tightened his hold. Though plan B was in effect, he still tried to speak. The second attempt heightened his feeling of suffocation. He was drowning in his own blood.

His arms still pulled her closer, trying to hold her tighter. The obvious fact that he couldn't speak made him all the more determined to tell her.

Even if the world was so shadowed and colorless that it made him wonder if his eyes were still open.

So what if one of his lungs was useless- finally run through with his broken rib? He had inadvertently rescued his daughter, avenged his wife and killed the men responsible for fifteen years of hell in his life. Looking back on it all, Sweeney realized he had fulfilled his promises to himself and others. With one last thing to do and no way to do it, his life felt slightly less fulfilled.

Was she still next to him? He couldn't feel her. Sweeney couldn't give her a message if she wasn't around to hear it!

For, despite the little things he had done that day, he needed to tell her to make it real.

Sweeney Todd had to tell Eleanor Lovett that he cared for her, so it could become a solid fact and not just a dream.

He couldn't see and all sensation had long since seeped from his limbs, but before he fully slipped away the barber fancied he heard someone whisper 'I love you' in his ear.

* * *

London nights always had a life of their own, but this night was certainly different.

Both Anthony and Johanna had harbored a secret hope that the monsters that emerged that day would not be a lasting problem, but everything they saw and heard that night swept away that small hope. Lanterns that would have softly lit the streets and front of houses were cold and unlit, but a glow in the distance showed that the fire that had been started early that night still raged on. The two teens doubted there was anyone left to put it out. They had searched in vain for Toby, only finding blood, creatures and broken buildings.

Mayhew's departure back to the judge's house felt like years ago, making it increasingly difficult for the pair to tell time. All the managed to reason it was now their turn to come back to the haven.

They had not found Toby's body, so that left a small hope in them. The small hope that the young boy was alive.

It did not help them feel any better as they ran, scuttled and ducked their way back to the judge's house. Johanna had felt a heaviness in her heart through the whole mission, almost feeling as if she owed it to Mrs. Lovett to bring back her boy. Thinking of the baker made the girl wonder if the woman was even still alive. She pushed the thought away, turning her attention to Anthony, who was looking around the edge of a building. Apparently deeming it clear enough to cross, he held a hand back for her to take. They had taken to running between shadowed alleys, the silence of the city fueling their paranoia.

Johanna grasped his hand tightly, trying to prepare herself for what felt like another run across open ground. All of the running and hiding had begun to make her feel like a rabbit caught under the barrel of a rifle.

"Ready?" Anthony whispered.

She just nodded in response. If they hadn't gotten too turned around in their search for Toby, Johanna figured they were only a few streets away from Turpin's home. Strangely enough, a creeping sensation of foreboding began to grow in her at the thought of returning. Terrible memories aside, the place was _secure._ What could be so terrible about going back?


	47. Chapter 47

47

It was like walking into the home of a stranger. All of the familiar sounds were replaced by silence, or the creak of worn floors. The safe place Johanna had been running towards no longer seemed safe. Anthony squeezed her hand, and lead the hesitant girl forward. She shuffled slowly after him, casting suspicious glances at wall hangings she had once walked by without a second glance. Johanna didn't even have to strain her ears to hear the sound of the city burning, and the thought of how close the fire could be made her shiver.

Anthony's steps wavered and Johanna found herself stop moving instantly. "What is it?" She whispered, it didn't seem right to speak loudly.

"I think I hear something." The sailor mumbled back.

_Of course you can hear something, it's the world falling apart._ Instead of voicing her thoughts, the girl strained her ears.

There was indeed _something_ making noise, and it happened to be coming from the closet right next to Johanna. Anthony immediately stepped out in front of her, though he hesitated before reaching towards the door-handle. The teens jumped slightly at the sound of the door opening, even though they had been the ones to do it. Once the hinges had creaked open far enough, the pair peered into the closest.

Three terrified women stared right back at them. One of them gasped at the sight, while the other two huddled closer to the wall.

"Miss! You're still alive."

Johanna blinked, mind still trying to process the fact there was no danger.

"If you wish to stay that way you shouldn't be here much longer!"

The girl only managed to get out, "we've only just gotten back-" before the maid cut her off again.

"Why would you want to come back?!" She looked hysterical, and on the verge of leaving the safety of her closet. "Did you not hear them? Those screams?"

"Screams…? Mrs. Lovett?!" Johanna nearly shouted, unintentionally causing the maids and Anthony to jump.

"No woman made those sounds miss. 'Tis the work of demons and crazed men!"

"The Devil!" The woman in the far closet corner shouted out.

The blonde felt she had little time to question the maids, and her mind was quickly falling to panic. The knowledge someone had been screaming bloody murder in the house was not helping to put her at ease. It meant someone was grievously hurt, and the only wounded people she knew of were Mr. Todd (it was still difficult to think of the man as he father) and Mrs. Lovett. Another thought suddenly occurred to her. Had Mayhew heard the screams? Had the apothecary even made it back? Had he _caused_ it?

Without bothering to take Anthony's hand, Johanna found herself sprinting down the hall. She did not make it very far, and it wasn't because of the panicked shout of 'Johanna?' behind her. The parlor door was open. Two people she had completely forgotten about were in that room. Had something happened to Turpin and the Beadle? She simply stared at the open door, too terrified to go near it.

"Johanna? What is it?" Anthony's presence soothed her slightly, but she still felt on edge.

"Who could have gotten hurt?" The words were out of her mouth before she knew she had spoken them.

"They're frightened, they probably have no idea what they're talking about," he tried to console her.

"This door was not open when we left Anthony!" Johanna shouted, once more causing the sailor to flinch. "Something happened," she continued softer. "I know it."

"Maybe Mayhew-"

Not listening to him, Johanna took steady steps towards the door. After one calming breath she stepped through the threshold. "Oh God…" The sickly feeling of cold fear-induced sweat on her skin felt like nothing compared to the nausea now twisting in her stomach. She leaned heavily on the door way but kept sinking down until Anthony came and wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his body becoming still at the sight in the room, though he made no sound.

"Johanna," he whispered, voice sounding hoarse. "You don't need to see this."

Johanna shook her head, tears filling her eyes. She felt she could no longer move. Not so long ago she felt she had made peace with how she felt about Turpin and the Beadle, but seeing them in such a state sent the strangest emotions through her; and she couldn't help but wonder. Should she feel sad at their passing? Was she supposed to be happy that that chapter in her life and been abruptly and permanently closed? Even if it was in such a violent manner.

"Mrs. Lovett…"

"She couldn't do this!" Johanna choked out. Anthony's words fueled her confusion. She was still unable to tell whether it was tears of joy or sadness streaming down her face.

"No! She's-"

And then she saw them. They seemed to blend in with the violent scene painted right next to them, which only caused the furious hammering of Johanna's heart to increase. Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd were utterly still, and the girl supposed without all of the blood the scene could have almost been romantic, the way his arms seemed to be wrapped so tightly around her.

"How did they get here..?" She mumbled.

Anthony was disentangling himself from her, about to head towards the pair, but she grabbed his arm. He looked back at her hesitantly, obviously debating on taking her closer to the bodies.

"I've already seen it." Johanna reminded him, the sailor just nodded his head and kept hold of her hand. Though she felt the desire to confirm it with her own eyes, Johanna's steps were slow and shaky as they moved towards the pair on the ground.

They were two feet away when she felt she couldn't take it anymore, and collapsed into the closest chair she could find. Anthony watched her a moment before turning his attention back to the floor. He didn't pause as he sank down to his knees, the fabric of his pants brushed slightly against Mr. Todd's shoulder. The sailor swallowed down his bile as he stared into the empty face of the man he had thought of as his friend. Sweeney's ghost-like skin looked gray, and even the shock of ivory in his hair seemed somehow dull compared to what it had been. In fact, aside from the splash of ruby at his mouth and trickles down his chin the barber was devoid of life and all it's vibrancy. Anthony heard Johanna begin to cry behind him, and he would have turned to comfort her had he not seen it. It was a faint stir, and so soft the was sure his eyes had conjured it up, but in another second he saw that it was true.

"She's still alive," he gasped.

Johanna's tears seemed to abate at the news. "We can't leave her here," she finally mumbled

Anthony nodded his head, but even as he lifted is hands to remove the woman from the dead man's grip, a part of his mind protested. He shook away the feeling and reached out to pry away the barber's arms. His stomach was on the verge of messily protesting when he finally pried an arm off of Mrs. Lovett. Doing his best to handle his dead friend's body with care, Anthony slowly lowered the limb to the ground. When he looked back he saw that she had opened her eyes. The sailor's entire body froze as he watched her slowly move a hand to lay against the barber's cheek.

"Sweeney…" Her lips didn't seem to move as she spoke.

"Mrs. Lovett… M'am…" Anthony felt suddenly desperate to get the woman's focus off of the dead man.

"Sweeney?" Her voice grew louder.

_God.. Does she not know he's dead?_ "Mrs, Lovett? M'am?" He didn't feel he had the courage to reach out and touch her.

"Sweeney." She had propped herself up and hovered over his body. "_Sweeney…!_"

Anthony jumped to his feet, feeling irrationally terrified and guilty. There was movement behind him, then he felt Johanna at his side. When he looked at her, her face must have mirrored his own. Johanna's eyes darted between Anthony and Mrs. Lovett, as if trying to find the answer to what had just happened. They both felt as if they had done something incredibly wrong by removing Eleanor from Sweeney's arms, and as the woman started to cry the pair bolted for the door, not knowing if they could handle what would happen if they stayed in that room.

A heart-breaking scream echoed after them.

* * *

A/N I almost ended the story in this chapter- but decided to leave this bit on it's own. The story will probably end in the next chapter, but there'll be an epilogue.


	48. Chapter 48

A/N All I can think of to say is 'holy fucking shit, I can't believe I finally have this up'. Apologies about the sudden intense swearing, it's three in the morning. I'll save further mildly flabbergasted comments for the end. Still, congrats and big thanks to those who have made it this far. I didn't even think I would...

* * *

48

Once he was back in his lab, James had slammed the door shut behind him. It took him just a few seconds to gather his thoughts before he shouted profanities to the ceiling. He gripped his head in a fit of desperation, trying to work out his sudden anger. Hadn't he gotten these emotions out already? Wasn't he over this? Shouting again, he turned towards one of the shelves and knocked the equipment to the floor. He had taken it so well when she told him… was seeing her with him such a big difference?

_Yes._

James let out a small groan, his hands sliding forward to cover his face. A few tears made their way down to soak into his fingers, but the sorrow ended quickly. The apothecary lashed out at his equipment once more, actually kicking the shelf with such force that his knee ached.

Eleven years. He had spent eleven _years_ wondering if the time was right to go talk to her. Obviously she never thought it was the right time to visit him; but what if he had plucked up the courage to go talk to her? Surely things would have worked out differently. They could have worked through the Lucy problem together… Could have _been_ together. Instead he had holed up, stared through his curtains down the street, and spent sleepless nights staring at the ring he had bought her.

Forcefully stomping on the glass on the floor, James moved forward to the tall stack of papers. Sweeping the notes onto the floor he lashed out with his other foot to strike the shelf.

Now both his knees hurt.

Turning sharply to look for something else to destroy, James froze. His eyes landed on the counter where Eleanor had lain after Anthony brought her back. His arms hung limply to his sides as he stared at the spot. Little splashes of her blood stained the wood, and his things were already moved away to make just enough room for her. James sank down to his knees, eyes never leaving the shelf. The erratic breathing he had obtained during his little fit was subsiding, and his mind was slowly going blank. Before Eleanor clouded everything in his mind, one final voluntary thought slipped into his consciousness.

_Hate…Sweeney Todd._

_

* * *

_Anthony held Johanna as close to him as he possibly could, but his eyes never left the door at the end of the hall. Mrs. Lovett's scream still seemed to echo around them, making him too paranoid to turn his gaze elsewhere.

"Anthony…" Johanna sobbed, her face was buried in his chest and her hands held onto his coat so tight her knuckled had turned white. "What….what did we _do?_"

He opened his mouth to reply, but no comprehensible sound came out.

"How could- and, and Mr. Todd!"

"Shh," Anthony finally murmured, still unsure of what to do.

"What- what're we g-going to do?"

"Shh," he continued, gently rubbing her back. "It's going to be fine." The words seemed to be such a lie it was hard to say them. "We're going to be fine Johanna."

"Hu-how do you _know_?"

_I don't._ "I just do," he mumbled into her hair.

She gave a loud sniff, trying to stop her tears. "But how?"

Before Anthony could reply, a new voice cut into their conversation.

"What did you do to her?"

The teens jumped in surprise, heads nearly colliding as they turned towards the voice. Seeing Mayhew hadn't been what they expected, as the spoken words had been flat and lifeless. His clothes were badly rumbled and his hair poked up at odd angles. The apothecary's gray eyes stared listlessly at the teens, as if not really expecting an answer.

"We-we," Johanna stuttered. "We were just-" and then she gasped when her eyes finally saw the blood. "Mr. Mayhew! Your hand."

Both he and Anthony turned their attention as she spoke. James held a large shard of glass in one of his hands, it edge barely poking out into view as blood dripped down to the floor from between his fingers.

"Nothing," he dropped the shard and let his bleeding hand hang limply at his side. "What did you do?" He repeated.

As he asked again they felt less compelled to answer. His odd behavior, the strange feeling of death that surrounded him and the fact he seemed not to care as his own blood slowly dripped to the floor made them wary. At that point it almost seemed he had taken some of his own compound and was turning into a creature with no feeling.

"Why wont you tell me?" James suddenly barked. "I already saw them! Now what did _you do_?!"

"We didn't do anything!" Johanna snapped, feeling guilty. "It's just, Mr. Todd… he's, he's dead and-"

It was a faint sound, but it still made the girl stop short. Mayhew was biting his lip but the joy still showed in his eyes. Another moment passed as he stifled his giggles, then his mouth opened to let out a full bellied laugh. He leaned heavily on the wall, tears actually streaming down his face.

James no longer looked happy though, and inbetween laughs he choked out, "she's going to hate _me_ now."

Johanna stepped away from Anthony, feeling the strong desire to defend Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett. "How dare you laugh! After everything Mr. Todd has done- everything my _father-_" She faltered, surprised at the words that had come from her mouth.

Mayhew didn't seem to notice though, his back was against the wall and he was sliding towards the floor. "That man has done nothing but ruin my life. Without even trying. He and that blonde haired wench he had for a wife."

Anthony was holding Johanna back before she even realized she had moved. She struggled against him for only a moment before shouting, "how dare you speak ill of my parents!"

"I can speak as I want, Johanna." James turned his attention to the glass shard he had dropped. He smiled softly and reached out towards it. "Speak how you want before you die. It's…_liberating_ to really speak your mind."

Johanna forced her anger away, slightly horrified at the look the apothecary was giving the glass shard. He wasn't going to… he wouldn't _do_ such a thing.

"Now at least he wont have her." The man muttered.

"What do you mean?" She snapped, her voice was still steely but the sailor's grip on her now was purely cautionary.

"He's dead." He repeated. "Bastard took her away, but now he can't have her."

"He died holding her!" The blonde countered, determined to bring down the apothecary's eerily happy mood.

"Then why did she scream?" His eyes flickered up to the teens, the creeping edge of madness now in them.

When Johanna faltered on what to say next, Anthony pulled her back into an embrace. James gave a soft 'hmph' in response before returning his attention to the glass.

"Do it!" Johanna screeched, her pushed-over anger easily coming back. "I want to see you do it!"

"Johanna!" Anthony gasped, wondering how on Earth he was supposed to calm her down. "Johanna, _please-_"

"This is- this is all his, his… _his_ bloody fault! I want to see him _die_ for everything," her voice broke as she started to cry once more. "Everything he…" She tried to keep breathing, hurriedly blinking at the fast falling tears. "Everything he's done." She finished in a whisper.

"Johanna…" Anthony's mind worked furiously to find a quick solution. He took her shoulders and turned her to face him, not wanting her to spend anymore time encouraging Mayhew to end his life. "Let's just leave. Right now, go somewhere safe."

"No where's safe…"

"_We're_ going to find a safe place." The sailor encouraged. He drew on all of his youthful hope to keep himself talking. "We'll go out and leave this place, find the safest place there is."

She stayed silent, watching him in amazement as he spoke.

"The- the maids will come with us! And we'll find survivors and go to that safe place. Johanna, we just need to leave."

Johanna wanted to tell him what a fool he was, that no such place existed and he was going to die trying to get there. Instead she let him hold her and whispered, "yes, we'll go."

* * *

It had almost been an involuntary response. She had felt his arms around her, and blacked out with the words 'I love you' on her lips. Then it was as if he was gone and she had to open her eyes. Seeing him like that, not feeling his arms around her felt wrong. Her mind and memory had immediately tried to shield her and she had to ask his name. He was sleeping, and when she spoke he would just mumble, shift and hold her again. So Eleanor had shouted for him, desperate to ignore the warning bells going off in her head. And then all there was left was to scream. Whatever force had taken Sweeney away from her deserved to hear her grief. Had better hear it and know what they had done.

Then all she had done was hold him and cry, ignoring the faint sounds of life outside the parlor. If they weren't with her grieving, it didn't matter. Time was of little importance and she hardly noticed when what had been out-there went out-side. They could go out there to die for all she cared. Eleanor was already at her grave, she just needed to finish fading away.

When footsteps broke the second silence of the house though, she had to lift her head to see who was encroaching on her death bed.

After months at sea port could be quite a welcome sight. Especially when you were coming home. When the sailors knew London was so close they couldn't help but pray the wind would blow harder, take them where the desired to be in a fast manner. Then in the darkness they saw a glow. Though to be fair it was the smoke that had told them first. Their fair city was burning and the wind was against them coming home to save him. The entire crew became agitated and their feet itched to run and save London.

Even before they docked they knew something else was wrong; and the heaviness in the air was what kept half the crew from jumping over board once the docks were in sight. As unappealing as it would have been to hear them, there were no bells, there were no screams. There were no _people._

The captain would have gladly moved on if they weren't in such need of supplies, but even after tying off the boat they hesitated about going ashore.

London could not be empty, yet she burned with only the sound of flames.

One crewmember finally dared to walk the down the gangplank, one hand firmly on the pistol he kept at his waist. The rest of the crew waited on the ship, watching him warily. Crates and barrels were stacked on the dock, some of them knocked over or broken with their goods spilling out. The man stepped carefully around those, as if they contained the plague.

"Leave."

He yanked the pistol form his belt and whirled in a circle, trying to find the source of the voice.

"_Leave._"

Pinpointing the sound, he cocked the pistol and aimed it at a crate to his right. A boy stood by the broken container, a sack over one shoulder and a bloodied board in one hand. "You should leave." He repeated once more.

The sailor's mouth fell open in shock at the sight of the boy, and he slowly lowered his gun. The crew on the ship shouted for him to ask questions.

"What-"

"Leave before you die. Spread the word of a plague."

"Plague? What-"

"S'easier to believe then monsters, innit? I say leave before you spread it." He snapped, his eyes darted around the crates, and he shifted the board in his hand uneasily.

"Son," the sailor began slowly. "Why don't you come with us?"

The child's eyes flickered back to the man, who suddenly cursed his kindness. He didn't want to be anywhere near that boy now, whatever he had seen to turn his eyes so cold the sailor did not want to be exposed to.

"No, you should just leave and warn people."

Giving a jerk of a nod, he ran back towards the waiting crew.

Toby watched the ship leave with little feeling. He had things to do here, there was little point in trying to run away. Turning back to the crates he continued to search for food. When he had run from the judge's house his feet had taken him here. It had taken quite a bit of thinking to come up with his plan though. Gather food and head for the sewers. The creatures couldn't climb up or down, and in Toby's mind the sewers was the perfect place to hide. Encountering any of them down there was unlikely, and aside from the smell the place was perfectly livable. But first he needed food.

Maybe there were survivors to take down into safely. Perhaps he would go back, save his mum, Mr. Todd, Johanna, Anthony and all the others that were in that man's house.

Maybe he could save people.

* * *

A/N Ok, wow, fighting down the urge to swear again. If any of you who first found this story when I actually just started it, let me give you an internet hug and handshake, because if you're reading this your are absolutely amazing. Seriously. Me actually having this story completed is insane. Those who have stuck around are fantastic. Though of course, -crazy uninsured laugh- There's some bits that are in this last chapter that are meant to make you go, but what happens next? Like a decent zombies flick, it is important to leave you with devastation, and you can picture the heroes living or dieing as you will after the story is done being told. Plus this story needed to be ended with something, and this is what it got.

It's been nearly a year since my last update. This story's epic journey is finally complete, if still full of grammatical and other forms of errors. Thank you all for going through this adventure with me. Seriously.


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